Bittersweet Bundle of Misery
by StalkerDex
Summary: Kyle is sick and dying and Eric is the only person who is there for him. Kenny is trying to outrun death and Stan is struggling not to give up hope. "Don't get sick", "Don't Die", "Don't lose hope" & "Don't fall in love". This is a Stanman story.
1. Chapter 1

Bittersweet Bundle of Misery

Chapter 1 – Just a State of Mind

By: StalkerDex

(Author's Note: This story is inspired by a work of fanart I saw on Deviantart. It's a photo of all of the boys with their sort of "issues" written on it. I'll post a link to it if I can get the artist's permission :) Yes, I'm aware that this is my third story…but I'm FILLED with ideas right now. I promise to give each story the time it deserves! Anyway…hope you enjoy the read!)

_Don't Get Sick_

Sheila sat quietly beside her son, exhaustion wearing her down. She was fighting off how terrible she felt fiercely, despite everyone's pleas for her to go home. There was no way in Hell she was going to leave his side; not when he could go at any given moment. He had fallen ill with cancer over three months ago and it was aggressive. He hardly even had the energy to speak anymore, and the doctor's had told her he would pass anywhere from three months to three days. It was gut wrenching and reeking havoc on her and the rest of her family.

Gerald was in the corner opposite his wife, standing with a cup of coffee, though he hadn't the stomach to sip it. He was suffering silently, allowing his wife to poor out her grief, as a good husband should. Still, it was killing him to watch his beautiful, 21 year old son on his deathbed. It had happened so quickly…he had been fine just a few months ago.

He put his hand to his head and closed his eyes as he remembered his last visit home. He had moved away after high school to go to law school in California, following in his proud father's footsteps. He had returned for Christmas vacation, however, and been completely fine. It was only March now and he was facing the end; it was mindboggling.

Sheila and Gerald both jumped as they heard Kyle coughing, waking from his sleep.

"Gerald…" Sheila said pleadingly as she stood up, quickly rubbing her son's back in his fit.

Mr. Broflovski ran over to his side and handed him a tissue. Kyle grasped it, hardly aware of what was happening in his ill state. He continued to cough hard for a few minutes before pulling the napkin away from his mouth, unaware that he'd completely soaked it with blood.

"Oh, Kyle…" Sheila said softly, taking the bloody tissue from his hand and clutching it as though it had some sort of power to change things as they were. She had to hold back tears as she looked up at her husband, eyes begging him to do something; anything. He felt his stomach lurch as he stared at her, unable to fix it. As a man, he wished for nothing more than to be able to snap his fingers and make it go away. However, there was simply no way to change things, no matter how desperately he and his wife needed it.

"Mom…I'm thirsty," Kyle said meekly, eyes half closed as he leaned back consumed with absolute fatigue. He felt like he could go right then and there. However, as he managed to look towards his mother's broken face he decided he'd better at least try to hang on.

"Okay, Kyle…you're father will bring you some," she cooed as she pulled her chair closer to the bed and ran her finger through his sweat drenched, fiery red hair. His green eyes were hazed over as he attempted to smile at her, though found himself unable. He was in so much pain.

Gerald set his coffee down on the small nightstand beside his son's bed and left the room to retrieve some water. It was, as much as he hated to admit it, a relief to leave the room. He loved his son more than anything in the world; even more than himself or his wife. Still, it was tiring to spend every waking moment at the hospital with Sheila. She insisted that they be there until the very end, however, and he knew he couldn't abandon either of them in their time of need, so he sucked it up and did what was asked of him.

He let out a deep sigh as he walked up to the small food cart in the middle of the hospital entrance, greeted by the familiar face of the night shift.

"Hey Gerald," his newfound friend greeted, a sympathetic look on his face. He was aware of the situation.

"Hey Mark, how are you?" Gerald replied, no enthusiasm whatsoever in his voice.

"I'm good. How is your boy?" he asked.

"Not so good. He just coughed up a pretty considerable amount of blood…he asked me to get him some water."

Mark nodded his head, eyes understanding as he grabbed an ice cold water bottle and handed it to Gerald. Gerald pulled out his wallet to pay him but was interrupted by Mark's hand waving in his face.

"Don't worry about it, man. Go take care of your son…this one is on the house."

Gerald smiled at him, though mostly all he could express was sadness and shame. He wasn't ready to go back in there and face him.

"Thank you," he said softly, taking the water bottle from his hands graciously.

"Of course. Now get outta here," Mark insisted, offering one more understanding glance before Gerald waved his hand goodbye towards him, not bothering to be enthusiastic, though showing his gratitude.

He trudged back, feeling as though he were being dragged into a prison cell as he peeped into the hospital room. Kyle was still awake, he noted, as he slowly entered. Sheila hadn't noticed him but his heart immediately warmed as he realized Kyle recognized him, offering him a weak smile.

Gerald smiled at his son genuinely, walking up beside his wife and handing the bottle of water to Kyle.

"Thank you," Kyle said, his voice cracking. It took so much energy just for him to speak; it was hard to see.

"Of course," Gerald replied, putting his hand on his son's shoulder and squeezing gently. It felt good to see him interacting, even though he knew the situation was hopeless.

Sheila had tears falling down her face, though she wasn't making a sound. She had stopped crying hysterically for the most part, and simply allowed salty tears to make their way down her face every so often, usually when Kyle was able to talk with her. It gave her false hope, which was part of what Gerald found to be so difficult about the situation.

"I love you," Kyle said softly as he looked up at his father, green eyes sparkling ever so slightly with life. It was the first time in weeks he'd seen the haze leave them, and for the briefest moment, he felt that glimmer of false hope he so detested witnessing in his wife. It was more than he could bear.

_Don't Lose Hope_

Stan sat in his room, guzzling down a bottle of whiskey. He'd received the news about Kyle back when it had all started, and he occasionally got calls from Sheila with updates about him. He didn't really want to hear about it, to be honest. He knew Kyle was going to die…he had accepted it. It was just irritating in all truthfulness when Sheila would call to tell him every little sign that Kyle might be improving. She needed to accept the reality of it.

This was life. People you love die. People you love leave. They treat you like shit, they take advantage of you, and the good ones always die young. Sure, he and Kyle had grown apart in their adolescence and damn near completely lost touch once he'd moved away. They were adults now…this is the way things were supposed to be. There was really no sense in holding onto those childhood friends. Everyone moved on from that and made new lives, even if it sucked.

Of course it sucked. Everything fucking sucked. He hadn't met one person worth a shit since he'd left high school. Fuck…the only thing he found any solace in was the delicious, comforting bottle of whiskey he had to himself every night. He had decided not to go to college in the wake of his exit from high school. It was a waste of time, especially because he'd come to the conclusion that there was no need to follow all of the rules of society. Go to college. Have a career. Get married. Pop out a hundred little copies of yourself and then die. It was all so droll and pointless. Nothing really meant anything.

Not even the fact that Kyle was going to die.

He smirked at the thought. It was strange; when he was a kid Kyle had been his entire life. They had always stuck together, through thick and thin, yet somehow as they grew up and Stan began to see things as they were, Kyle had abandoned him. At first he was very bothered by the fact that Kyle didn't want to follow in his footsteps, and even jealous of the friendship he forged with Eric in the aftermath of their intense friendship. Eventually, however, he'd realized that relationships were meaningless, just like everything else. There was no need to pursue a friendship with Kyle. There was no need to pursue a woman to marry. There was no need for anything really.

He was content to go to his second rate, VST job at the local ambulance company in Park County, Colorado. He would attend his twelve hour shifts anywhere between three to four days a week and he would spend all of the money he earned on rent and the immense load of alcohol he required to make it through the days. Honestly, nothing made him happier than the peace he felt when his mind was numbed with the copious amounts of alcohol he fed himself; even if it didn't mean a thing.

_Don't Die_

Kenny had moved to New Jersey to be with his adoring girlfriend of three years, Alley. They had met their senior year and immediately moved out of state upon graduation. He was going to school as an English major, enjoying the more artsy side of life. They lived in a studio apartment that overlooked a nice, woodsy area near a small lake. It truly was beautiful, and the two of them were very content together, enjoying a simple life.

Alley was a painter, and the scenery proved perfect for her to hone in her craft while Kenny studied and wrote feverishly day and night. In between their projects, however, they spent most of their time talking, enjoying nice quiet dates and making love in the warmth of their apartment.

Kenny truly was the happiest he'd been in his life; except, of course, the fact that his curse had been broken. He had made a deal a year earlier with a rather strange man he'd met at his small time paper job. He wrote local obituaries, of all things, and had gone to his coworker's apartment for a beer. Upon getting a small buzz, he'd decided to divulge the fact that he had been cursed with eternal life. He aged normally, but no matter what happened, he kept getting killed and coming back, no one ever remembering the fact that he'd died the day before.

It was rough on his body and mind, dying over and over again. He was tired of being drawn to the white light, only to be just out of reach and then violently jerked back to his healed, Earthly form. Of course, he didn't mind his life. He was quite happy seeing as he was pursuing his dreams and very, very much in love.

However, upon sharing his secret, his coworker had performed a small ritual and seemingly rid him of his curse. This of course led to an overwhelming stress he hadn't thought of before making his deal; now he could die.

The grim reaper didn't seem to be out to get him nearly as much as before, seeing as he was still alive, but he lived each and every day knowing very well that it was likely his last. Perhaps that was why he spent so much of his time forcing himself to enjoy life. He wanted nothing more than to spend every minute he had with his love and enjoying the beauty life had to offer.

"Hey, Honey…are you okay?" Alley asked as she walked up beside her boyfriend, hugging him close.

"Yeah…just thinking about Kyle," he admitted as she ran her fingers through his long blonde locks.

She sighed as she grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the bed, sitting him down and settling on his lap. She looked at him sympathetically, knowing very well what it was like to lose a friend.

"Do you think we should go and visit him?" she asked.

Fuck. Get on a plane? You've got to be crazy.

"I don't know if I can," he said, not bothering to elaborate. He knew she wouldn't push him.

She sighed, brushing his bangs out of his blue eyes and leaning in to kiss him softly.

"Well…I will go with you if you decide you want, okay?" she assured.

He looked her over, smiling gently at her and noting that one of the straps of her tank top had slipped off of her shoulder. He slid his finger over the exposed area before kissing her gently.

"I want you," he whispered.

She smirked at him before enveloping him in her arms and gently pushing him onto his back.

"I want you, too…"

_Don't Fall In Love_

Eric tugged at her long black hair as he thrust himself forcefully inside of her. He didn't know her name…he didn't care to know her name. It was never something he wanted when he delved himself into his affairs. It was all meaningless, casual surface encounters; just the way he liked it.

She moaned and writhed with pleasure beneath him, occasionally shouting out his name. He pulled her hair some more, causing her to lift her chin and expose her neck to him. He leaned in and started to nibble and suck at it hungrily, eager to climax.

As he sped up his pace he felt the blonde behind him start to kiss the back of his neck. He had almost forgotten about the other one, seeing as he was focused on the dark haired woman at the moment. Apparently these two girls were close friends and, upon meeting him in college, they'd both decided they had to have him. He certainly wasn't going to complain.

"Me too, Baby," she urged as she tugged at him.

He moaned in protest, though removed himself from the darker haired girl and rolled over onto his back. He watched as the two girls made out and pleasured each other for him, which was definitely arousing. The blonde kept looking up at him from between her friend's legs as though searching for approval. Despite the fact that he found her to be entirely pathetic, he was turned on and he did want to fuck her, so he quickly snatched her off her friend and positioned her onto his lap.

She moaned, utterly satisfied as he thrust himself inside of her, letting her ride him at the pace she wanted. As she moved her hips rhythmically her friend put her hand on Eric's cheek and kissed him deeply. As she kissed him and her friend writhed around atop him, she grabbed his hand and forced it between her thighs. He obliged her for a few minutes before becoming overwhelmed with the situation.

He started to shake violently as he climaxed with his new blonde friend. She screamed out dramatically, which he knew was total showmanship, but couldn't bring himself to care. It didn't matter to him whether he made either of them cum or not, he just wanted to get his rocks off and if they were willing to tag team him he was going to let them.

"Oh…Fuck…Eric that was fantastic," the blonde one said, breathlessly allowing herself to fall beside him. He shook his head and smirked.

"Of course it was," he replied, quickly getting off of the bed and putting his pants back on. The two girls were snuggled up together, neither bothering to get dressed as they watched him.

He suddenly found himself very irritated with them and pulled his black T shirt over his head hastily. He was still a little pudgy, though not to the extent to which anyone would call him fat or see him as unattractive. In fact, he had a very handsome face and it seemed to catch the attention of many young women. He pretty much had someone to fuck whenever he wanted, so he couldn't complain.

"Alright, thanks for your hospitality ladies…I'm gonna go home now," he announced as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket and lit one. He didn't even care if they were okay with him smoking in their apartment.

"Aw…leaving already? I didn't even get to cum," the dark haired one whined, clearly disappointed.

"Sorry, Darlin'," he said arrogantly, "Why don't you get your friend here to take care of that? I gotta go," he insisted pulling his leather jacket over his shoulders and quickly exiting the room, not bothering to look back. He didn't plan on fucking either one of them again. That's how he was, hit it and quit it.

Throughout his adolescence he had come to the realization that there was no point to falling in love. He had once, with someone he couldn't have, and had no desire to go through that agonizing pain ever again. He had built a wall to protect himself and there was no way in Hell he was ever going to let it down.

He jumped a bit as he stepped outside into the cool evening air, listening to the ocean waves crashing down. His iPhone was vibrating in his pocket.

"Hello?" he asked curiously.

"_Hi Eric. It's Sheila._"

Eric abruptly gave his full attention to his friend's mother, concerned.

"Is Kyle okay?" he asked, worry very obvious in his voice.

"_He's the same Eric. He's awake, though, and he was asking about you,_" she said honestly, knowing that Eric would come by and visit. He had followed Kyle to California and shared an apartment with him before he fell ill. He still lived in their place, though he was hardly ever home. Of course, Sheila wasn't aware that he was crashing at all different women's apartments every night of the week, attempting to shield himself from the sickening reality all around him.

"I'm on my way…he's awake?" Eric replied, urgency in his voice as he sat himself in the driver's seat of his Nissan Altima, turning it on and driving towards the hospital.

"_Yes. I'm not sure how long he'll stay up, but I think if you're close by you can catch him._"

"I'm close…I'll be there in five minutes, alright?" he said, speeding up a bit. It had been a while since he'd caught Kyle awake. He went to visit him every single night, usually after his sexual deviance. It calmed his nerves afterwards to do something that actually meant something; to be around someone who actually mattered to him.

He swallowed hard as he felt his heart start to race. He so urgently wanted to get there before Kyle fell asleep again, though found it very difficult to think of what to say to him. His stomach always ached when he was there, even though he knew it was a good thing. Kyle was the only person in the world who could actually make him feel and, as frightening as it was, he would sometimes allow himself to open up ever so slightly when in his presence; of course, he would be gone soon, and that was a reality he knew had had to deal with.

"_Okay Eric…we'll see you soon," _Sheila said before hanging up the phone. Their conversations were never long.

Eric took a long drag off of his cigarette as he sped down the streets, eager to get to his friend. He was the only one who had stuck by Kyle's side after high school, and he had to admit, he was pretty pissed off at Stan and Kenny for not bothering to come and visit. Especially now that the end was near. How could they just sit back, not even bothering to call, while their friend was dying? It made him sick.

The drive hadn't been long and he found himself running down the halls of the hospital to the familiar sight of Kyle's room, even passing Mark at the entrance with his little stand full of goodies. He would normally stop to get himself a treat, but seeing as Kyle was awake, he simply ran past and waved halfheartedly at him as he passed. Mark knew he was there to see Kyle and didn't take offense. The whole family was going through such a hard time.

Eric felt himself losing his breath as he finally set sights on Kyle's room, and stood outside for just a second to catch it, peering in through a crack in the door. He could see Sheila's fiery hair and, upon entering, was settled to see Kyle's tired face smiling up at him graciously. He was always so appreciative of his visits, which made it even more worthwhile. Eric would do anything to paint a smile on that pretty little face of his.

"Hey Jew," Eric greeted, a little embarrassed as he was still struggling to catch his breath.

"Hey, Fat Ass," Kyle retorted, though very soft. He didn't have much energy for conversation, which Eric was very aware of. Cartman smiled at him warmly, pulling up a seat on the free side of his bed.

"Come on, Sheila," Gerald said, quietly urging his wife to give the two young men a minute alone. They had a very close friendship and they felt it was healthy for Kyle to have a few minutes of his time without parental supervision. Of course, he wasn't a child; it didn't really matter whether or not they were there in the end.

Nonetheless, Sheila stood up and smiled affectionately at Eric before Gerald put his arm around her shoulder and led her out of the room.

Eric sighed as he grabbed Kyle's hand and squeezed it, a little absent minded.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, not bothering to make eye contact with Kyle. He didn't need to. He just had to hold his hand, as he always did when they were alone. For whatever reason, Kyle always let him.

"Like shit," Kyle said, chuckling a bit. He always tried to make light of the situation, and it really upset Eric. However, he choked back his pain and offered Kyle a light smile, finally making eye contact with him.

"So…did you get any tail tonight?" Kyle asked. They always discussed Eric's sex-capades when he visited. He felt like the Jew wanted to live vicariously through him or something, and didn't really mind sharing. If it made Kyle happy he would tell, even though he kept those matters entirely private from the rest of the world.

To be honest, he was utterly ashamed of the way he acted. He knew it wasn't right to use women as sex objects, but he didn't want to open himself up. It was just too risky.

"Yeah…banged two chicks at the same time tonight. It was pretty sweet."

That last part was a lie. It made him feel filthy, as casual as he tried to seem about the whole thing.

Kyle smiled at him, a gentle understanding behind those green eyes of his. He was, however, blissfully unaware of just how much Eric cared for him, which was exactly how Cartman wanted it to stay. As much as he'd always longed for Kyle, he'd never made a move out of fear and the general observation that Kyle was not into the whole guy on guy thing. It was just easier this way; at least it seemed to be.

Eric smirked as Kyle squeezed his hand a bit, even daring to lace his fingers between his friend's. Cartman was a little taken aback by the intimacy of their new form of handholding, though didn't mind. In fact, he craved these small moments he shared with Kyle. Perhaps before he had fallen ill he'd have been more optimistic and pursued something with it, but now there simply was no point. Even if Kyle was capable of loving him, was there any point in pursuing it? It would only hurt them both in the end. Eric would get a taste of the love he'd always craved and Kyle would find something really worth living for when there was simply no hope for him to live. It just wasn't fair to go there, so he didn't.

"I'm tired," Kyle admitted, loosening his grip, though still maintaining his embrace.

Eric sighed and smiled softly at his friend, "Okay. Get some rest Kyle. I'll come and see you tomorrow, alright?"

"Yeah, okay," He replied, letting out an uncontrollable yawn, "I'll see you tomorrow Fat Ass."

Eric squeezed his hand once more before letting go and standing up, adjusting his jacket.

"See you tomorrow, Jew."


	2. Chapter 2

Bittersweet Bundle of Misery

Chapter 2 – Who the Fuck?

By: StalkerDex

"Fuck, dude…I'm so tired," Stan complained at Butters, who had already landed himself an EMT job. It was a little depressing, he had to admit, that Butters seemed to be doing better than he was. Still…it didn't really matter. At least, that was what he had to tell himself.

"You're off soon, aren't you?" Butters asked, waiting at the VST counter for Stan to give him some supplies.

"Yeah…" he muttered, searching for the items requested.

Butters leaned his elbow on the counter and rested his head on his hand. His blue eyes were tired after working a full night's shift. It was midnight now and he just had to restock his ambulance before clocking out.

"You want to go and get a drink with me before you go home?"

Stan finally located the last item he needed and handed it to Butters.

"You drink?" Stan asked, raising one of his eyebrows doubtfully.

As lame as Butters had always been, somewhere along the line he'd managed to mature a bit. He got himself that good job, after all, and was now living in his own apartment.

"Yeah, sometimes. Not too much…I work a lot, but I'm off tomorrow."

Stan smirked at him, handing Butters a form he needed to sign off on acknowledging the supplies he was given.

"Alright, cool dude."

Butters smiled at Stan, trying to mask his excitement as he gathered his supplies and walked over to the ambulance. His partner, Token, was wiping down the back of it.

"What are you so smiley about?" he asked, noting his partner's happiness.

"Me and Stan are going out to get a drink after work!" he announced, quickly hopping into the large ambulance and loading the supplies into their respective homes.

Token shook his head, smirking at Butters, "That's cool man. I don't know why you keep trying so hard to hang out with Stan, though. You know he doesn't give a shit about anything…"

"Not yet, he doesn't. He just needs a friend, that's all."

"Whatever you say man," Token said, shaking his head.

Butters was so damn optimistic and it was going to get him into a world of heartache one of these days.

"Alright, well…don't worry about this then dude. Go ahead and clock out, I got this," Token said, indicating the last few supplies Butters had to put away.

"Really? Thanks Token…that's awesome. I'll see you on Monday, K?"

Token chuckled a bit, "Yeah, okay."

Butters set his supplies down on the passenger seat of the vehicle before hopping out the back and walking towards Stan, who had already untucked his shirt and removed his hat, his hair a tossled black mess.

Stan had grown into a very, very attractive man. Girls literally went nuts for him; sadly he didn't notice. He simply didn't give a shit about anyone or anything and it stood in his way immensely.

"Alright, you ready?" Stan asked, noting Butters was standing beside him expectantly.

"Yeah…meet you over at Charlie's Pub?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Stan replied, scratching the back of his head and looking at Butters. He wasn't sure why he was so pushy about hanging out, but if he wanted to go to a bar he was fine with that. It didn't really matter who the fuck asked him to go to the bar with them, he was down.

As Stan walked over to his small, beat up Toyota truck, he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at it while plopping into his driver's seat and putting his key in the ignition. It was Sheila.

He stared at the screen for a moment, trying to decide how he felt about it, before sighing and rejecting the call. He didn't feel a thing.

As he started his car and made his way to the bar he couldn't help but wonder how he had gotten to this point. There was a time when, if he knew Kyle was going to die, he'd have flown out to where ever he was and been right by his side the entire goddamn time. He used to love Kyle so much…so fucking much. In fact, there had been times when he'd loved him in more than a platonic way. He'd told him at one point in high school and been let down easy.

_"Kyle…Kyle come here…" Stan begged, drunk out of his mind and sitting on the floor of his friend's bedroom._

_ "What is it, Dude?" Kyle asked, a little irritated. Stan had been drunk more and more often and it was beginning to cause tension between the two. Of course, what Kyle didn't know was that the reason Stan drank so heavily was him._

_ "Lookit…I'm super drunk…an…an I know you don' t like it an I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry…" Stan slurred, grabbing his friend's hand and yanking him down to the floor beside him. Kyle obliged, looking at him with disdain._

_ "Well, Stan…this is starting to get a little ridiculous. I mean, shit…we haven't hung out in I don't know how long and I'm starting to think the only reason you asked to come over here tonight is because my parents are out of town and you can drink. Isn't that why you're here?"_

_ Stan swallowed hard, eyes wide as he looked at his friend. Was that really what he thought was going on? Fuck…he had no idea just how wrong he was._

_ "Kyle…" he began slowly, eyes still widened, "…you really think that?"_

_ Kyle grabbed his own arm and rubbed it uncomfortably, "well…yeah. I mean…you haven't asked me to do anything with you in months…"_

_ "That's not it!" Stan interrupted, leaning in close to his friend, "I haven't been asking you to hang out because you and Cartman are best friends now…why the hell would you want to hang out with me?"_

_ Kyle blinked at him stupidly. He was right, he and Eric had grown very close and, as Stan's alcoholism progressed, he wanted less and less to do with him._

_ "Dude…look. I still care about you, okay? We're friends…we've been friends forever. It's just that…we're going down two different roads. I don't see things the way that you do…"_

_ "I know!" Stan interrupted again, anger creeping into his voice, "that's why I drink."_

_ Kyle tilted his head a bit and furrowed his brows, "what the fuck are you talking about, Dude?"_

_ Stan stared at him, tears welling up in his eyes as he spoke, "I drink because you don't see things the way I do. You don't see me the way I see you…"_

_ Kyle sat himself up and cleared his throat uncomfortably, "what are you trying to say, Stan?"_

_ "I'm saying that…that I'm in love with you Kyle…romantically in love with you."_

_ Kyle didn't really show surprise, or disgust…nothing really. Stan felt his stomach drop as he tried to make heads or tails of what he was feeling._

_ "Well…?" he finally asked, hardly able to contain himself. He'd been waiting to confess that for so long._

_ "Well…well nothing. I'm sorry Stan. I love you too…just not like that. I'm not gay dude…sorry. If I could I would, but I'm just not wired that way."_

Fuck. Stan cringed as he pulled into the bar's parking lot. He hated thinking about that moment, and it was something he thought about frequently in his rare moments of sobriety. Good thing he was about to get his drink on.

"Hey Stan!" Butters said cheerily as he watched his friend get out of his truck.

"Hey," he greeted, listlessly tossing his phone and keys into his pocket. He didn't really want to talk.

Butters walked eagerly beside his friend as they made their way inside and had themselves a seat at the bar. The bartender was a young, attractive woman with big fake breasts. Stan noted the lack of arousal he felt. It was still a secret that he was gay, however, so he always made an effort to at least look the girls up and down.

"What can I get you boys?" she asked, recognizing Stan. He was a frequent flyer at Charlie's Pub.

"I'll have an Appletini, please," Butters requested, causing the girl to smirk. Stan looked at him, struggling to hold in his irritation. How the fuck could Butters, an obviously straight man, act gayer than he did?

"Christ," Stan said as he put his hand to his head and looked apologetically at the bartender, "Whiskey please."

"Dang…she's cute, huh?" Butters asked as the bartender walked away. Stan shook his head and smiled a bit.

"Yeah, yeah…she's cute."

Butters sat quietly for a moment, though looked as though he were about to explode if Stan didn't engage him in some sort of conversation soon. For his own amusement, he let him squirm until their drinks arrived.

"Here you go…" the bartender said as she set their drinks down, "we starting a tab tonight, Mr. Marsh?"

"Yeah, here…" he said as he pulled out his wallet and tossed his credit card at her carelessly. He wasn't going to bother with pleasantries. She knew he was there for one thing and one thing only; to get plastered.

…

"Eric…oh fuck…Eric…" her voice rang out as he quickened his pace. Once again he was with some random chick he barely even knew. He had met her at the grocery store about a week ago and schmoozed his way into retrieving her number. He had decided to call her in the aftermath of visiting Kyle today, which was unusual.

It was sort of depressing, really. That day he had resolved to try and do better for himself, but upon visiting his dear old friend found it impossible. Kyle hadn't woken even once, which was a sign that things were getting significantly worse.

"Eric…hey…Eric…the fuck?" he suddenly heard his latest booty call say with dissatisfaction.

"Huh…oh…shit I'm sorry…" he said, somewhat in a daze. Somewhere in the middle of his thoughts he had lost his erection and was simply slapping around on her.

She sat up and pulled the covers over herself before looking up at him. He had sat himself down across from her and looked very distracted.

"What's the matter?" she asked, suddenly a little concerned for him. It was weird, she barely knew him but she could tell something very significant was happening in his life.

"Um…well…" he began, scratching the back of his head, "my, uh…my friend is dying. My best friend is dying and he's getting really bad. I'm sorry…I just can't stop thinking about it. And to top it all off, our other two friends that we grew up with don't seem like they give a shit. Neither of them has come out to visit him and he could die any day now. It just…it just makes me sick," he admitted.

The redheaded girl he had been banging looked at him sympathetically before speaking, "well…have you tried to call them?"

He sighed, "No. I haven't. His mom has called them. Kenny always answers and seems 'distraught' she says, but Stan never fucking answers his phone. He doesn't even bother to take her calls because he's a fucking piece of alcoholic shit."

The girl nodded, sympathy visible in his eyes. He looked her over for a moment before sighing and showing a look of utter defeat.

"What's your name, again?"

She chuckled a bit, which surprised him. Most girls would pop him in the mouth for that one.

"Alexis. So…why don't you call them?" she replied, not worrying too much about the fact that he'd forgotten her name. She knew she was just a booty call anyway.

"What? Oh no, I can't do that…" he said, a little flustered.

She looked at him as he stood himself up and slid his pajama bottoms on. He had invited her to his place, which was an unusual thing for him to do.

"Well why not? If you're so angry about it you should do something."

He stood before her, still maintaining a perplexed look.

"Because…shit's not that simple. I haven't talked to any of those guys in three years…"

"So?" she interrupted.

Eric could feel himself getting irritated.

"Soooo…it's not my job to call them."

She furrowed her eyebrows at him, "yes it is."

Eric raised one of his eyebrows and folded his arms across his chest. She was pissing him off, but he at least wanted to hear her reasoning.

"How do you figure that one? You don't even know me."

She smirked at him arrogantly, which surprised him. No one _ever _acted that way with him, the king of all that is arrogant.

"Because…he's _your _best friend. How can you call him that if you don't assume any responsibility for him?"

He stood with his mouth open before letting out a few frustrated grunts in an attempt to retort. He had nothing. She smirked at him some more before sliding out of the covers and quickly putting on her clothes.

"Look…you're right. I don't know you, but I'm just saying…if you care about your friend you should do something about it. You have my number…you can call if you want."

Eric huffed at her, "for what? Advice or a quick fuck?"

She laughed a bit, "figure it out."

He stood beside his bed, arms still folded across his chest as he listened for the click of his front door behind her. What a little bitch! Who did she think she was? Coming into his house and telling him what he needs to do with people she doesn't even know.

Still, as he sat there and stewed over her audacity, he found himself unable to dispute what she had said.

"Well fuck me," he muttered as he quickly grabbed his phone off of the nightstand.

…

Running. He was running as fast as he could, the shadowy figure not far behind him. Fuck…he could feel his heart pounding and his legs turning to rubber as he struggled to keep going. He was so goddamn tired…how long could he possibly keep this going?

As he ran through the streets, doing his best to outrun his familiar and ominous pursuer, he saw a blinding white light flash from the end of the dirty alley way he had found himself in.

Fuck, fuck, fuuuucccckkkk!

There was nowhere to go. He knew if he stepped into that blinding light he was a goner. He stopped, heart pounding so loud he couldn't hear anything but. He allowed himself to collapse to the floor, overcome with exhaustion as he turned to face his pursuer. His blue eyes flickered gray as the shadowy figure closed in on him, a dark musky cloud around him.

Here it was…it was finally here…

"Kenny…hey…Kenny…wake up…" Alley's sweet voice beckoned him.

"Huh…what? Oh shit…what is it babe?" he asked as he shot up, drenched with sweat.

"Baby…you were having another nightmare," she cooed at him, sitting up tiredly beside him. This was starting to happen more frequently and she was growing concerned.

"Oh…" he said, breathing heavily as he tried to compose himself. He always felt bad when this happened, "Oh…I'm so sorry."

"It's okay…" she said, her voice just barely above a whisper.

She rubbed his back comfortingly for a second before gently putting his phone into his clammy hand.

"You're phone was ringing…I answered it for you."

"Oh…oh, okay babe, thanks," he replied, still in a bit of a daze as he put his phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"_Hey_,_" _a familiar voice responded, sounding the absolute epitome of irritability.

"Cartman? Why are you calling me?" Kenny asked, suddenly finding himself able to shake off his slumber, "is Kyle okay?"

There was a long pause, concerning Kenny all the more.

"Eric…seriously…why are you calling me?" he urged, noting a pit in his stomach as he feared the worst.

"_Calm down, Kenny. He's still alive_."

Kenny let out a sigh of relief before speaking once more, "Okay, good. Then why are you calling me?"

Another long pause.

"Eric…come on…" he urged some more.

"_Hang on, okay? Christ almighty…_" Eric said, irritation heavy in his voice.

Kenny shut his mouth, putting his free hand to his eyes and wiping off the sleep. He could feel his girlfriend's eyes on him as she listened intently to their conversation.

"_Look…this isn't easy for me, alright?_" Eric continued.

Kenny sighed. Of course it wasn't. He hadn't Eric hadn't spoken in nearly three years.

"Okay…I'm sorry."

Another long silence passed between the two of them before Eric spoke once more.

"_Look…just…just get here, okay? And soon._"

Kenny felt his stomach lurch. Fuck…Kyle must be getting worse. The guilt was suddenly overwhelming as he realized it must be pretty serious for Eric Cartman to get off of his high horse and call him.

"Yeah…okay…I'll be there," was all he could manage.

Another silence passed between them before Kenny heard Eric hang up the phone. He sighed, frustrated with his old friend's lack of communication skills.

"Is Kyle okay?" Alley asked gently, putting her hand to his back once more and rubbing.

"No…no he's not."

…

Butters was laughing hysterically at Stan as he continued to crack jokes about their high school days in his now drunken stupor. He had already downed about six glasses of whiskey and Butters had indulged in two full Appletinis, leaving him buzzed.

"Fuck, Stan…we should hang out more often. I forgot how funny you are," Butters admitted, wiping a tear from his eye. He hadn't laughed that hard in years.

Stan chuckled a bit, taking a sip of his seventh whiskey. It was times like these he would let his guard down.

"Yeah…I guess we should," he said listlessly as he allowed his finger to circle the rim of his glass. He had to admit, he was having fun. A moment of reverent silence passed between the two of them before Stan felt his phone vibrating once more in his pocket. Fuck, if Sheila was calling him again he was going to lose his shit.

Butters watched as Stan angrily jerked his phone out of his pocket and looked at it, shock instantly painting itself across his handsome face.

"Wh…what is it?" Butters stammered, surprised at his friend's sudden reaction.

"It's Eric…" he said in somewhat of a daze.

"Eric Cartman, Eric?" Butters clarified, just as stunned.

"Yeah…Eric Cartman, Eric," Stan repeated before deciding to answer. He looked at Butters, pleading for him to be quiet with his eyes. Butters kept his mouth shut as he listened to their conversation.

"Helloooo?" Stan asked, dragging out the word to make his shock known.

"_Hey_," Eric's familiar voice said, not sounding overly enthused.

Stan swallowed hard before speaking again, "What's up, Dude?"

He could practically feel Eric's rage at the fact he was being casual. Still…he wasn't sure what else to do.

"_What's up? What's up is your ass needs to be here Stan, that's what's up._"

He kept his eyes on Butters as if his friend could possibly offer some sort of stability throughout this horrid conversation.

"What for?" Stan demanded, getting a little defensive.

"_For Kyle you goddamn moron._"

Stan rolled his eyes, "what the fuck does Kyle need me there for?"

Butters felt a pit form in his stomach. He was aware of what was happening with Kyle, and he had to admit he didn't think it was right Stan hadn't made his way out there. After all, they had been best friends for most of their young lives.

"_Are you serious? Have you really turned into that much of a douche bag!_" Eric demanded, pure rage seething from his husky voice.

Stan looked back at Butters, eyes wide with fear. It was strange to see Stan so rattled.

"Well…no…" he defended himself meagerly.

"_Then fucking get here. Jesus H. Christ mother of God…" _Eric continued, muttering the last bit more to himself.

"No," Stan suddenly said, narrowing his eyes and looking just beyond Butters, who was shaking he was so nervous. It didn't sound like the conversation was going well.

"_Excuse me? Did you just say no to me? I swear to God Stan I'll drive out there and fucking rip your goddamn nuts off with my bare hands!" _Eric threatened, not sure of what else to do. When in doubt, intimidation was always the best answer.

"Fuck off Eric…" Stan retorted in his drunken haze, pretty proud of his witty response.

He could practically hear Eric rolling his eyes at that one.

"_Are you really going to make me drive out there and get you?_"

Stan looked at Butters once more, his eyes begging for some sort of instruction.

"Stan…" he spoke slowly, trying not to cause a scene, "Stan…I think you should go."

Stan blinked at him stupidly before putting his hand over the talk mic and lowering his phone.

"Really? You think so?"

He seemed genuine.

Butters nodded his head, "yeah…I do."

Stan looked at the ground, seeming to mull it over in his head for a few seconds before putting the phone back to his ear.

"Can I stay with you?" he asked, painfully aware of the fact that he hadn't saved a dime.

"_Yeah you can stay with me,_" Eric replied, a little surprised that Stan was even considering it. He really thought he was going to have to go to South Park and beat him into submission, which he wasn't the slightest bit opposed to.

Stan swallowed hard as he looked towards Butters once more, "Okay…I'll be there tomorrow."

A long silence passed between the two of them before Eric spoke once more.

"_Okay. I'll be here._"

Stan nodded to himself before lowering his phone and hanging up. Fuck. Had that really just happened?

"I, uh…I have to go home," he said, his mind wandering.

Butters nodded at him, a silent understanding between the two. He watched as Stan mindlessly wandered off, scratching the back of his head.

Once outside Stan sloppily pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed his father. This was practically the millionth time he'd done this, so he knew he would answer.

"Dad…hey…I need a ride home," he admitted, feeling a little shame for the first time in years.

"_Stan…come on. We can't keep doing this…_" Randy instantly began to protest before he was cut off by his drunken son.

"I know…I know. I'm sorry…I, uh…I'm leaving tomorrow to see Kyle."

There was a long pause before he heard his father sigh, "_Okay…okay your mother and I will be right there_."

Stan had himself a seat on the curb as he waited for his parents, the world spinning violently around him. For the first time in what seemed like forever he was getting hit with a wave of emotions. Great…now the alcohol couldn't even keep his stresses at bay. He watched, a little unsure of just where he was as Butters walked past him, waving goodbye before getting in his car to drive home. He found himself wondering if he was okay to drive before quickly dismissing the thought.

Who cares. It doesn't matter, he assured himself.

He sat there for about ten more minutes before his father's truck pulled up in front of him.

"Get in Stan," Sharon instructed as she got out and walked up to her son, her hand presented to him.

He rolled his eyes spitefully as he pulled his keys out of his pocket and handed them to his mother. She struggled to swallow her disappointment as she took them from him, marching over to his car in irritation. He wanted to fucking hit her as he watched her silently throw a tantrum over the inconvenience. She could be such a fucking bitch sometimes.

Still, he found himself standing up and trudging into the car with his father. He plopped in and buckled himself before slamming the door shut and staring at the floor. He was too ashamed to look his father in the face, despite his best efforts to seem like he didn't give a shit.

Luckily, Randy didn't push him and simply pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards his house.

"You want to stay with us tonight?" he offered after a few minutes. He knew Stan needed some time to recover from the embarrassment it was to call his parents yet again.

"No…I'm fine," he replied, still staring at the floor. He had calmed down a bit and was suddenly forcing himself to hold back tears of shame. He hated doing this to them.

Randy nodded in silent understanding. The rest of the ride was the same and, once they'd pulled into his driveway, Stan simply hopped out. However, as he started to walk away he heard his mother pull up as well. He halted in his tracks and listened for her to get out before turning to face them both, his eyes glazed over.

"Thanks," was all he could manage to spit out before turning back around, a look of bewilderment on his face.

Sharon and Randy quietly watched, noting that it was the first time they'd ever been thanked for this ridiculous ritual.

"You're welcome," Sharon replied loudly, wanting her son to hear. She was being genuine.

He stopped for a second and kept his back turned to her before waving his hand at his side sloppily and continuing the walk into his apartment. She sighed heavily before getting back into her husband's truck.

"I hope this is a wake up call for him," she said softly, referring to his planned visit with Kyle.

"Yeah…well…we'll see if he actually goes," Randy said, disappointment heavy in his voice as he put the car into reverse and started their drive back home. Sharon looked at the ground, struggling to choke back tears. She was losing her son, fast, and she couldn't do a goddamn thing about it.


	3. Chapter 3

Bittersweet Bundle of Misery

Chapter 3 – You Always Let Me Down

By: StalkerDex

(Author's Note: Thank you so much for the amazing reviews! They make me so happy! :D Yes, there is a pairing in this story… hehehe. I pre-apologize for the bits with Kenny being so short…he will have a bigger role to play as the story progresses.)

"So he should be here soon then?" Alexis asked as she sat at Eric's kitchen counter, casually munching on some Doritos. He was standing on the opposite side of the counter, leaning atop it awkwardly.

"Yeah…" he admitted, reaching out and turning the chips towards him, snatching a few out. He still ate frequently to comfort himself. It was the sole reason he couldn't get rid of the last bit of weight he carried.

She nodded towards him, seeming to mull a few thoughts around her head.

"So, what did you say to get him here? I mean, you said that Kyle's mom has been trying to get him out here for months…"

Eric shrugged as he popped a few chips into his mouth, "I dunno. Nothing really…I just told him he needed to be here."

"Really? That's it…?"

Eric nodded, keeping his eyes on the counter. He hadn't looked her in the eye once the whole time she'd been there. He had called her earlier in the afternoon, finding himself a bit lonely. Things had been weird since Kyle was in the hospital. He had grown so used to the comfort of spending all of his free time with his best friend, chatting excitedly about the day's events and fucking around with each other. He was going to miss that so much.

"Well…everyone takes me really seriously."

She nodded, figuring she had a pretty good read on him.

"So, what you're saying is…everyone knows when you get involved it's not to be ignored? I'm guessing that's because you're not able to express yourself…right? They probably figure you're pretty desperate if you're the one calling them."

"Fuck you," he retorted, looking up at her, "I'm not desperate. I just listened to your stupid advice, that's all."

She smiled at him, happy that she'd gotten under his skin. She wasn't sure why, but she felt like she wanted to help this poor guy. It was obvious he needed it.

"So what're you gonna do when he gets here?" she continued, ignoring his outburst.

He shrugged once more, grabbing another handful of chips, "I don't know. Probably just ignore him."

"Quit eating those chips…you'll never lose that baby fat if you keep that shit up."

He looked up at her again, eyes wide with shock.

"Wow…you're kind of a bitch, aren't you?"

"Oh stop…you're just saying that…" she said, playfully taking it as a compliment. He raised his eyebrow at her, somewhat enjoying the little game she was playing with him. No one ever dared to play games with him, and he was tickled by her attempts to engage him.

"Fine. I mean it, though…I don't know. I haven't seen him in three years. I don't even know what kind of person he is anymore."

"Oh please," she said, grabbing the chip bag and rolling it up. He couldn't help but feel slight irritation at the fact she was taking his comfort food away from him. Luckily, he had a few in his hand and he made sure to munch on one as he looked mockingly towards her. She still had that goddamn smirk on her face as she stood up and tossed them into his cabinet, "nobody really changes. You said he was a manic depressive alcoholic when you and Kyle moved away, right?"

"Yeah," he admitted, looking questioningly towards her as he clapped his hands together in an attempt to rid his fingers of the glorious processed cheese. He would normally lick it off, but this girl was blunt. He didn't want to provoke her. He'd be damned if he didn't admit somewhere he craved that delicious cheese dust, though.

"So, that's what you're gonna get. Are you ready for that?" she asked, returning to her seat and taking a sip of a glass of water they were sharing. It was weird; he barely knew her but he found himself forging a rather intimate friendship with her pretty quickly.

Eric rested his elbow on the counter top and propped his head up on his hand as he looked her over thoughtfully. He honestly hadn't considered it.

"I dunno. Maybe…I mean, what can I do about it? He's a big boy…if he wants to drink he can drink. I'm not gonna stand in his way. I honestly couldn't give two shits about anything Stan does. He was Kyle's friend, not mine."

"Now you and I both know that's not true."

Fuck. He wished she would quit calling him out on his bullshit. As she provoked him, however, he found himself wanting her.

"Yes it is. Well…we used to be friends, but we're not anymore."

She looked him over, noting the lust that had settled into his hazel eyes. She could use that to her advantage.

"Hmmm…okay, so you care about him then," she took a big step over all of the bullshit with that one. Eric squinched his nose, showing his distaste. Care about Stan? Hell no he didn't. Stan could go to Hell for all he cared.

She leaned forward, pushing her breasts together as she did so. She was pleased to find his eyes fixated on them. He really was cute, she observed. His brown hair was always carefully disheveled and he was always dressed pretty fashionably. Tell tale signs he was gay. This was why she had given him her number in the first place. Of course, he was a very prideful man and she could tell that being gay was not something he would openly admit. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised if he'd never even slept with another man. She knew that was why he had gotten her into bed; it was all a great big distraction from what was really wrong in his life. He was gay, but he was also a very masculine guy. He probably repressed all of his sexual desires adamantly.

"You want me? You've gotta earn it," she coaxed, leaning back and stretching her arms above her head, poking her breasts out for him.

"Fuck off," he said, a little breathlessly. She smirked at him some more, holding her arms above her head as she looked at him tauntingly.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Tell me some more about your friends…and be real about it."

Eric raised one of his eyebrows, "baby…when have I not been real with you?" he asked as he slowly made his way over to her side of the counter, holding his face close to hers. She slid her arms around his neck and leaned back, holding herself up with him.

"Please…every word out of your mouth has been a lie thus far."

He smirked at her arrogantly as he grabbed her ass and lifted her up onto the counter. He enjoyed it when women made him work for it. It was so rare anymore.

"How about this," she continued, removing her arms from his neck and leaning back, "you answer my questions honestly and I'll give you a reward?"

Eric smiled at her and let out a small laugh. A game of cat and mouse? Definitely.

"Alright…deal. What do you want to know, Darlin'?"

"Okay, for my shirt…who are you more angry with, Stan or Kenny?"

"Stan," he said abruptly, looking at her lustfully. He could hardly contain himself.

She knew he was telling the truth. She had him by the balls.

"Okay, fine…" she said playfully as she pulled her white tank top up over her head, revealing her lacy black bra.

"Can I touch you?" he asked, a little breathlessly.

"You can put your arms around me…no funny business," she warned.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he said fondly as he leaned up against the counter and wrapped his arms around her waste, the soft feel of her skin welcoming beneath his hands.

"Okay…now…for my skirt…and mind you I'm not wearing any panties today so you're getting a little freebie this time…why are you more angry with Stan?"

Eric put his forehead to hers, trying to decide if he enjoyed the mixture of sex and honesty. The two together usually left him with a bitter taste.

"Because…I hate him more…" he spat out.

"Ah, ah…no lies!" she warned, leaning back a bit and waving her finger in his face. Fuck…

"Fine, fine…sorry," he spat out, pulling her close again, "because. Because I was always jealous of the friendship he had with Kyle and he just pissed it all away for no good reason."

"Good boy," she said, patting the top of his head fondly. He stepped back as she unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. Her body was a work of art.

He smirked at her, lust hanging heavy in the air as he pulled her close once more.

"Wrap your legs around me?" he asked.

She smiled at him affectionately before doing as he asked.

"Keep your hands on my back. If you want to touch you've got to answer another question.

"Anything babe…" he answered, obeying her orders. Fuck…this broad was something else.

"Why so jealous of Kyle and Stan's relationship?"

Eric swallowed hard. He wasn't going to answer this one.

"Too personal babe…you're going to ruin the game…" he begged.

She figured she wouldn't get that one out of him, so she quickly recovered herself.

"Okay, fair enough. We'll save that for next time…"

Eric nodded at her, not really caring.

"So…let's go with something a little easier then. Why don't you allow yourself to stop stress eating? You know you do it…it's not helping anything."

"Because," he started, rubbing her back hungrily, "It's easier than dealing with my shit head on. Everyone has their vices doll…you know that. That's why you play head games."

"Oooh," she said playfully, realizing that he was capable of dishing it out as well. She thoroughly enjoyed him, "way to go for the jugular baby. Now you can touch…"

He leaned in and kissed her mouth passionately as he put his hand between her thighs and rubbed her, noting the dampness. He had her wanting him just as bad.

She moaned a little bit, thoroughly enjoying the feel of his hand as she pushed her hips closer to his torso.

"Okay…one more question baby and then you can have yourself a taste…"

"Okay, okay…" he breathed out as he kissed her neck.

"Why do you…"

Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

"Ffffuuuuucccckkkkk…" Eric whined in protest as he leaned back from her, knowing it was Stan. Of all the horrid times for him to arrive. He literally had all day and he decided to land his hippie ass on his doorstep right before he had his way with this gorgeous and gutsy woman.

She chuckled a bit before hopping up and quickly replacing her clothes, tauntingly wiping a wet spot off of his counter.

"I guess your little friend his here."

"Yeah, yeah…" he muttered as he wiped off his fingers and walked towards the door, struggling to calm his heart rate. He was going to have blue balls tonight, that was for sure.

He thrust the door open, hoping to display at least a minor amount of the irritation he felt to Stan. However, he was a little caught off guard at the site of him. He hadn't prepared himself for it.

He stood in his doorway for a moment, staring at him. He looked really different. His black hair was a little longer than he'd remembered, falling just above his eyes. He had on black sunglasses, a snug white T shirt, skinny jeans and black chucks.

"Hey…" Stan said sheepishly, looking down at the ground. Neither of them was really sure what to say.

"Uh…hey…" Eric replied, eyes practically rolling into the back of his head as he turned around and headed back inside. He felt dizzy.

As Stan walked into their cozy apartment, he noticed the young woman sitting in the kitchen.

"Oh…hi…my name's Stan," he said stupidly as he set his duffle bag down beside a tan couch in the living room.

"Hi Stan. I'm Alexis…Eric was just telling me about you," she said, playfully looking at him before walking into the living room to shake Stan's hand. Eric felt his cheeks run hot.

"Oh…uh…cool. Nice to meet you," he said, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head and shaking her hand cordially. His blue eyes were stunning.

"Well aren't you just a little hottie!" Alexis said playfully, looking towards Eric.

Cartman cleared his throat, unsure as to why she directed that at him. He suddenly found himself wanting her to leave.

"Alright…well…that was kewl…" he said, drawing out the last word to show his disdain.

She winked at him as he walked up to her and put his hand on the small of her back, trying to push her towards the door. She knew he wanted her to leave, and she was happy to oblige, but not before damaging that ego of his just a little bit. She knew he would forgive her anyway.

"Aw…really? You're just going to finger me and send me on my way? What a shame," she said, exposing their sexual activity to his friend. He felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment as he nudged her a little harder.

"Jesus Christ…" he muttered as he led her to the door, shooting her a warning glance.

"Don't make a scene," he whispered angrily at her. He didn't want anyone to know about his sexual deviance, let alone one of his childhood friends.

"See…" she whispered, leaning in close to him, "you do care what people think."

He blinked stupidly at her as she kissed him on the cheek and turned her attention to Stan, who was watching the situation unfold awkwardly.

"Nice to meet you Stan. Sorry about your friend," she said before shooting Eric one final taunting look and exiting the apartment, leaving the two of them in a hellish and awkward silence.

"Well…she's spunky, isn't she?" Stan finally said, trying to break the silence.

Eric shook his head and walked back into the kitchen, retrieving the Doritos that had been so forcefully taken from him.

"You don't know the half of it, Hippie," Eric replied. He really was exasperated with her.

Stan smirked at him before walking towards the kitchen, "can I have some of those? I'm starving…"

"Too poor to buy yourself some food on the way?" Eric mocked, though pushed the bag towards him.

"Fuck off," Stan said carelessly as he grabbed a handful.

Eric shook his head once more as he ate, finding it easier to bear the silence between them. He hoped it wasn't like this the whole time he stayed.

"So…uh…you were able to get off work then, huh?" Eric said, trying to find some common ground.

"Yeah…shit…it's South Park. Everyone knows what's going on…they were just waiting for me to ask," he admitted, a little ashamed.

"Yeah…well…" Eric began, though thought better of it. There was no sense in fighting with Stan. After all, he did show up, "…well…you're here now. That's all that matters, or something…I guess."

Stan smirked. Eric was the worst at expressing himself.

"So, uh…you smoke then hippie?" he asked, pulling a pack of menthols from his back pocket and shaking it.

"Yeah…you drink?" he asked, shoving his hand into the pocket of his jeans.

Eric sighed, "you really can't go one day without a drink, can you Stan?"

"Nope," he said flatly, not wanting to get into it. It was nobody's business what he liked to do in his free time.

Eric looked him over for a moment before sighing in defeat, "fine. But I don't have any whiskey asshole. Just beer."

"That's fine, whatever," Stan said. At this point he would settle for a fucking wine cooler.

Eric walked over to his fridge and grabbed a Heineken, handing it to Stan. Stan took it gratefully before pulling out his keys and using a bottle opener he had attached to them to open it. Of course he had one of those, Eric noted with irritation.

"Alright…come on…" Eric urged as he walked around the counter and headed towards the double glass doors he had in his living room. It had a lovely view of the ocean and a large, bamboo patio.

Stan followed him, happily sipping his beer as he had a seat on one of Eric's patio chairs.

"Fuck…awesome sights you have here," he said, drinking in the scenery of the ocean.

"Yeah," Eric admitted as he lit himself a cigarette. He hadn't bothered to have a seat, "the ocean's nice to hear when you go to bed, too."

What a bunch of pointless fucking blather. How could they have gone from such close friends to having absolutely nothing to talk about?

Well…there was one thing.

"Are you coming with me to visit Kyle tonight?" Eric suddenly asked, taking a drag of his cigarette. He was doing his best to look casual, not making any eye contact with his attractive friend.

Stan took another swig of his beer, eyes fixated on the ocean.

"I don't know if I'm ready for that…" he replied, a genuine sadness in his voice.

As irritated as Eric was with what he'd actually said, the inflection of his voice caused him to look at him. He did look bothered.

"Fine. But you'd better prepare yourself. He could go any day now…you're going to want to see him before he goes."

Stan swallowed hard and put his hand to his mouth. He looked stressed.

"Please…I can't have this conversation right now," Stan begged, looking up at Eric with those blue eyes of his. They were glazed over. He almost looked as though he might cry, which caught Eric a little off guard. He could tell the subject was going to be off limits for the evening.

"Yeah, okay," he said softly, finally having himself a seat in the chair beside Stan. They sat in silence, though it wasn't as awkward as before. They were both lost in thoughts about the man they'd both, at one point in time, fallen in love with.

"Where am I going to sleep?" Stan asked, breaking their thoughtful silence. Eric blinked, seemingly making his way back into reality.

"Oh…uh…you can sleep in my bed if you want. I'll take the couch…I don't like it in there anyway."

Neither of them was going to mention the fact that Kyle's room had an empty bed. It just didn't seem right.

"Nah…it's cool man. I'll take the couch."

Eric didn't respond. He simply took the last drag of his cigarette and stomped it out.

"Well…it's time for me to go and visit…you good here?" Eric asked, standing himself up.

Stan nodded before returning his gaze to the ocean. This was just sad. Not only could he not face Kyle, but he couldn't maintain a half way decent conversation with a kid he'd known since he was basically a toddler.

"Yeah…okay," Eric said, disappointment heavy in his voice as he shook his head and disappeared into the house. Stan watched the ocean and listened as Eric rustled around in his apartment. He waited until he heard him leave before standing himself up and making his way inside. He looked around briefly, noting a rather endearing photo of Eric and Kyle seemingly drunk off their asses and smiling brightly on the coffee table. He couldn't help but smirk as he looked at it, noting that it took him back to an easier time.

However, that wasn't something he was able to relish in for very long. No, what he could use to numb the pain wasn't nostalgia, but more alcohol. He was ashamed that needed it, but no one was around to see, so he went ahead and opened the fridge, pulling out another beer. This was going to be one long mother fucking night.

…

Kenny sat on the bathroom floor, razor blade thoughtfully perched in his hand as he found himself in a daze. He'd been contemplating for hours, his skin so bright in the bathroom light that he felt like he might go blind.

How bad could it be? One quick, deep gash and he could end it all. Right then and there…then he wouldn't have to run anymore. At least he would have some control over the situation if he ended it himself. Why not? He was going to die anyway. Sure, he would leave Alley behind and his family and no one would ever understand why.

That was basically the biggest thing that was holding him back; the lack of understanding. He knew he could leave a suicide note, but he was also painfully aware that it would simply lead to people thinking he'd done it out of insanity or maybe even a drug binge. Who the fuck would believe that he had died over, and over, and over again? Nobody would.

"Fuck," he whispered to himself as he lowered the blade, his hand shaking violently as he pushed it onto his fair skin. The blade kissed it gently, though found itself unable to penetrate the skin.

"Baby?" Alley's voice beckoned from the other side of the bathroom door, "baby are you okay?"

"Huh…oh…yeah…sorry babe my stomach's bothering me," Kenny lied, abruptly standing up and placing the blade onto the side of the bathtub.

"Oh…okay. Well…I booked our flight for tomorrow at nine AM…you good with that?" she asked.

"Yeah…yeah that's fine, sweetie," he replied, eyeing the taunting blade that lay upon his porcelain tub. Fuck. He didn't know what to do.

…

Kyle's green eyes were hazed over as the doctor talked with his parents casually. For whatever reason he had made it a point of 'befriending' the family and often sat in his room entertaining them. It didn't really bother Kyle though. He supposed it was nice for his family to have some comfort in this dark time.

"Kyle…" Sheila said, gently placing her hand onto her son's. He rolled his head a bit on his pillow, focusing on her as best he could. She was a little fuzzy.

"Mom…?" was all he could manage.

She struggled to smile at him, though was mostly just trying to hold back tears as she spoke, "do you remember I told you Eric is on his way?"

She did? Shit…he didn't remember that at all. He didn't want her to know that though.

"Yeah…he'll be here soon…" he half way asked, half way assured himself. He wanted so badly to see Eric. He willed himself forcefully to stay awake long enough to see him.

Time was passing so slowly in that godforsaken hospital, and the end seemed to be creeping up on him faster than he'd thought possible. All of this time and he still hadn't really thought he was going to die. He thought he would get better and eventually fight it off like he had done with everything else in his life. He'd always been prone to getting sick, but nothing was ever strong enough to beat him. Nothing could kill Kyle Broflovski…not while he was this young.

Still…as he waited for the upturn he found it harder and harder to believe he was going to be okay.

"Kahl…?" Eric's voice cooed from beside him, causing the young man to roll his head once more. He struggled to focus his eyes some more, though felt great relief as he managed. There he was. His best friend in the whole world, smiling down at him assuringly. It was nice the way Eric could still smile at him genuinely. He was so much stronger than the rest of them.

"Eric…" he said, smiling as best he could. He was so happy to see him. Eric smirked at him before sitting down. His parents had left the room as they always did.

"Hand…" he urged, turning his hand over to expose his palm to his friend.

"Calm down Jew…I'll hold your hand," he said, trying to lighten the mood as he grasped his friend's hand firmly. He noted that, for the first time, Kyle was unable to tighten his grip in return. It made his stomach lurch.

"I'm happy you're here," Kyle said meekly as he breathed heavily. It really was taking a lot out of him just to hold onto consciousness anymore.

Eric frowned, noticing his frailty.

"Me too, Jew…me too."

They sat in silence for a moment as Eric watched his friend go in and out of consciousness. He was fighting so goddamn hard to hold on.

"Kahl…I have some good news," he finally said, wanting to give him something to look forward too. It was the only thing he could think of to keep his love hanging on, despite how selfish he knew it was.

"What?" Kyle asked, focusing once more on his friend.

"Well," Eric said as he squeezed his hand once more, smiling assuringly at him, "Stan drove out. He was tired from driving all day but he's going to come and see you soon, he wanted me to tell you."

"Stan drove out here for me?" Kyle asked, still barely lucid.

"Yeah…yeah he drove out here just for you, Kahl."

Kyle smiled softly as his eyes started to close. He was so fucking tired.

"Tomorrow fatass…" was all he could manage as he lost a hold of consciousness, drifting to sleep.

Eric struggled to hold back tears as he spoke to his sleeping friend, "yeah…see you tomorrow Jew."


	4. Chapter 4

Bittersweet Bundle of Misery

Chapter 4 – Hopeless Friend

By: StalkerDex

"Holy shit!" Eric laughed, struggling to catch his breath.

"Right? Fuck man…good times," Kenny said joyously as he allowed himself to fall back into his barstool, leaning his arm over the back of it. The two of them had met for drinks after he and his girl had settled into their hotel.

"So where the fuck is Stan, anyway?" he asked, settling down after their laughter. They had been reminiscing over their younger days.

"Ugh…" Eric shook his head, disappointment visible on his face, "he's being a pussy."

Kenny took a swig of his beer, looking his old friend over.

"He still drinking?"

Eric nodded, leaning over the bar and trailing his finger aimlessly across it.

"Yeah."

Kenny nodded, understanding. He knew Eric was letting him crash at his pad and figured he was probably going to spend however long it took Kyle to pass babysitting Stan.

"And I'm guessing he didn't go with you to visit…?"

Eric shook his head, tipping his head back and finishing up his beer.

"No…not last night or this morning," he said, setting his beer down and propping his arm up on the bar. He was getting a little buzzed and found himself able to share. Of course, opening up with Kenny was always easier than with Stan. Kenny and Eric had always had an understanding with one another, even as children. Before he and Kyle had grown close he'd always considered Kenny to be his best friend.

"Well…you know, man…he's going through some shit. He cares about Kyle, you know that right?"

Eric raised his eyebrows for a second before waving his hand listlessly at the bartender. Unfortunately for him, she was a girl he'd banged a few months back and never called, so she'd been staring daggers at him all night.

"Whatever you say, dude," Eric replied as he she walked over and slammed his beer down next him, shooting him a dirty look. He flipped her the bird before taking a swig and turning his attention back to Kenny.

"What's her deal?" Kenny asked, fully intending on getting back to the issue once he gave Eric a little break.

"Oh…yeah…I fucked her and never called," he replied smirking.

Kenny chuckled a bit as Eric whistled at her and held his hand up to his ear, pretending to be phoning her. She huffed and turned around, heading to the other side of the bar.

He laughed at his own joke before taking another drink, noting how light headed he was getting. It had been a while since he'd really gone out and had a drink; it felt good.

"You know…it's been a long time since I've been able to just bullshit with someone. I'm glad you're here, Kenny."

Kenny smiled warmly at his friend, also finishing off his drink.

"Yeah…I know what you mean. I love my girlfriend but she's pretty much the only person I spend any time with anymore. I haven't kicked it with another dude in a long ass time!"

Eric laughed, "You're pussy whipped dude! I always knew she was gonna have you by the balls!"

Kenny joined in with his friend's laughter, "yeah…yeah I know. You know what though? I really love her. I mean really, really love her. In fact…" he said as he reached into his pocket, pulling a small velvet box out of his pocket, "…I'm thinking about popping the question pretty soon."

Eric looked at the small box and, for whatever reason, felt a wave of sadness wash over him.

"Oh…wow…really?" he said, not sure of what exactly he was feeling. Kenny noticed his friend's lack of enthusiasm.

"I…I'm sorry…I shouldn't have…"

"No…no…it's cool," Eric interrupted, taking another swig.

Kenny felt really guilty for bringing it up as Eric stared at the bar counter, sliding his finger back and forth over the side of his beer.

"You're gonna be okay…" Kenny offered as he reached out and put his hand on Eric's shoulder. Eric's muscles tensed at his touch.

"I know…I know…this has just been…well it's been a fucking nightmare to tell you the truth," he admitted, looking at his friend with genuine heartache in his eyes. It had been years since Kenny had seen such profound emotion on Eric's face, and he was caught off guard.

"Look…I know you loved Kyle…but…it wasn't going to happen anyway. You have to remember that…and you've got to move on, for fuck's sake. I've been telling you that for how many years now?"

Eric nodded, returning his gaze to the bar's surface. He didn't really want to have this conversation. He had regretted ever telling Kenny about how he felt for Kyle in the first place, even though that had transpired in high school. No one else in the world knew.

"Let me ask you something…and I want you to be honest…" Eric suddenly said, looking at his friend once more.

"Sure…anything," Kenny replied, eager to hear what Cartman had to ask him.

"How do you know that nothing would've ever came of it? I mean…are you, like, one hundred percent positive on that? Or are you just trying to make me feel better…?"

Oh shit. That question. As chill as Kenny could be, he didn't like divulging other people's secrets, and this question would require that he break someone else's trust. Maybe he could work his way around it.

"Well…Kyle told me he wasn't gay."

Confusion painted it's way across Eric's somewhat drunken face, "what're you talking about? Did you ask him? Why would he say that?"

"Uh…no…no I didn't ask him. He, uh…he told me about something that had happened between him and someone else."

Eric felt a pang in his stomach, "something happened? Like sexually? Was he with someone else?"

Kenny felt bad as he heard an overwhelming panic choking Eric up. He sounded like he was about to lose it.

"No, dude…nothing like that. Nothing actually physically happened between him and anyone. Someone else just had feelings for him, and they told him. It freaked him out so he talked to me about it once."

Eric's face portrayed a profound sadness as he looked at his old friend, and Kenny felt terrible for having to have this conversation. Perhaps he should've let sleeping dogs lie.

"Well…who was it?" Eric finally asked, surprised that someone else had been in love with his Jew.

"Look…this all happened before you fell in love with him anyway. The two of you were just beginning to get close…"

"Who was it, Kenny?" Eric demanded, though not forcefully. He still sounded like he could burst out in tears at any given moment.

Kenny sat there, mouth slightly open as he struggled to find the right words.

"I can't betray his trust…"

"Well…this dude didn't tell you right? Kyle told you…so how would you be betraying anyone's trust?"

Kenny scratched the back of his head, mulling it over. He knew it would cause drama if he was honest.

"Because…I just can't tell you. I'm sorry…Kyle wouldn't have wanted me to out somebody over something he said, you know that."

Eric shut his mouth and stared at Kenny for a moment before once more averting his eyes to the bar countertop, allowing a tear to fall down his cheek. Kenny felt terrible as he saw Cartman start to lose it.

"You know…" he began, struggling to keep his voice from wavering, "…I don't know what I'm going to do now…"

Kenny watched in silence as Eric fought himself. He knew he didn't want to let it out, but he was also aware that he could only hold it in for so long. It had been three grueling months since Kyle had been hospitalized; that was a long time to hold in those tears.

"…I mean," he went on as he wiped a tear from his eye and continued to focus on the bar counter, "…I've never loved anyone like I love that fucking Jew…"

An audible sob escaped Eric's lips involuntarily as a few more tears started to make their way down his soft face. He shoved his hand over his mouth for a moment, struggling to control himself.

"…He's so young…if there's a God how can he take him now? He's just barely started his life and…fuck…he's such a goddamn _good _person. If anyone deserves to die it's me, not him. He never did anything to deserve this…"

Another sob escaped him, much to his embarrassment.

"…Just…fuck…this is so fucked up…I would give anything to save him…I would do anything to keep him here, Kenny. Anything in the goddamn world," Eric spat out, looking up and Kenny and suddenly losing it.

Sobs continuously poured out of him as his shoulders began to shake and tears fell down his face endlessly. He put his hand over his mouth once more, trying to control the volume of his sobs. Kenny quickly hopped out of his barstool and grabbed his friend as he fell out of the chair into his arms.

"Shhhh…" Kenny urged as he grabbed onto him and started to lead him out of the bar, not bothering to close either of their tabs. He just had to get him to his house.

"Fuck…" Eric whined between sobs as he leaned on Kenny for support.

"Dude…it's okay…it's all gonna be okay…" Kenny continued as they reached his rental car.

Eric leaned against it, struggling to calm himself as Kenny stood silently beside him. He knew Eric hadn't meant to lose it, and that he was probably mortified he had allowed it to happen, so he decided to keep his mouth shut. They stayed this way for a moment while Eric pulled out a cigarette and smoked it, his hand shaking from his emotional outpouring.

"I'm sorry," he finally said as he took short, frequent drags from his cigarette. He obviously wanted to finish it quickly.

"Don't be…I'm gonna drive you home. Go on and get in the car," Kenny instructed as Eric quickly took the last drag and stomped his cigarette out.

"Yeah, okay," he said letting out a shaky breath as he walked to the passenger side and let himself in.

Kenny started the car and backed out, glancing sympathetically towards Eric every so often. He hated to see him like this.

"Just take this up Orange and you'll end up at the Ocean Side Apartment Complex on the right," Eric said, not wanting to acknowledge his breakdown any further.

"For sure, dude," Kenny replied, knowing Eric needed his space. The rest of their short drive was silent until Kenny pulled up in front of his apartment.

"Hey…I'll see you soon, alright?" Kenny said as he watched Eric get out of his car.

Eric froze, his hand on the door and back facing Kenny before speaking.

"Yeah…thanks man…" he replied, not bothering to turn.

Kenny understood his pride was very hurt and he wasn't offended.

"Any time."

Eric nodded before shutting the door and making his way up to his apartment, slightly sobered from the emotional breakdown he'd just had. He listened as Kenny's car drove away before putting his key into the lock and letting himself inside. Stan, he noted, was still awake and sitting on his couch flipping through the television channels listlessly.

"How's Kenny?" he asked, not bothering to look up at Eric. If he had he would've seen his tear stained cheeks.

"He's fine," Eric replied, his voice having found it's normal pitch once more.

"Cool," Stan said, still not bothering to shift his gaze.

"How many beers in are you?" Eric asked as he went to his fridge and pulled out a beer. At least there were still some left tonight. Last night Stan had polished off an eighteen pack to himself.

"I dunno…not too many…" Stan said, not wanting to admit that he'd consciously gone out of his way not to get hammered. He had felt bad that he'd drank himself into oblivion the previous night. He'd already been passed the fuck out by the time Eric returned from visiting Kyle, whenever the Hell that was.

"Oh…cool," Eric said, not really sure how to act. Stan was totally oblivious of his vulnerable state and he wasn't entirely sure if he liked it that way. He was buzzed and, in those moments, he usually craved the attention he normally went out of his way to avoid.

Eric moved slowly as he walked towards the couch, unsure as to whether or not he should have a seat beside Stan. He really wanted to. He couldn't explain why, but he thought it would be good if the two of them actually talked about something; even if it was only bullshitting.

"Can I sit with you?" Eric suddenly asked, catching Stan a little off guard.

"Uh…yeah…sure…" Stan said, a little bewildered as he looked up at Eric, realizing that something was wrong. Had he been crying?

He was confused as Eric sniffled a bit and had himself a seat beside Stan, taking a sizeable drink of his beer. Stan felt a little uncomfortable, noting Cartman was buzzed and acting weird.

"You okay, dude?" Stan suddenly asked, surprised that he was sober and Eric wasn't. This never happened.

"Yeah…I'm fine. Just bored…"

Stan knew he was lying, but decided to indulge him.

"Oh…sorry. Uh…what do you wanna do?"

Fuck this was the most awkward conversation ever. He wanted nothing more than to run into Eric's room and lock him out.

"I don't know. I never spend my nights like this…I hardly ever sleep here, honestly."

Stan raised one of his eyebrows, "oh please…you don't get ladies like that…"

Eric laughed, "oh fuck yes I do!"

Stan shook his head, "seriously? You've got enough women to find somewhere to sleep _every _night…?"

Eric nodded, taking a swig. Stan was looking at him now, not sure whether or not Cartman was just being theatrical.

"I'm seriously," Cartman said, laughing a little as he finally looked at Stan. His eyes were a little puffy, making it obvious that he had cried. Stan shook his head, wanting to cheer Eric up.

"Pffffttt…whatever. Fuck off…" he said, playfully crossing his arms over his chest and looking at Cartman doubtfully.

Eric smirked at him before biting his lower lip, his nerves racing. He had no idea what to say now.

Stan continued to look at him, noticing how attractive Eric looked in his vulnerable state. It was a rare sight and he found himself fond of it, which was kind of terrible. What kind of person found someone attractive when they were at their worst? An asshole, that's who.

"Okay…if that's true then why haven't any of these bitches called you since I've been here? Wouldn't your phone be, like, ringing off the hook?"

Eric shook his head and took another swig, "nah. I don't give them my number! I fuckin' block that shit when I hit them up."

"Well…what about that girl from yesterday?"

Eric sighed. Fucking Alexis. She was a trip.

"I haven't had the chance to have a proper fuck with her. She has my number but…I think she's, uh…actually just a friend."

Stan smirked at him, remembering the things she'd said the day before, "do you finger all of your friends?"

"Obviously not…I haven't stuck my hand up your asshole, have I?"

Stan chuckled a bit and put his hand to his head, a little embarrassed. Christ…if only Eric knew he was gay.

"Hopefully not," he laughed, "I mean…I know how often you used to sneak into Kyle's room…who knows what you're capable of!"

Eric laughed a bit, thinking about all of the mean things he'd done to Kyle while he slept. Fuck…things were so much simpler back then.

"Goddamn…I'm gonna miss that Jew…" he said between chuckles, taking the another drink of his beer.

Stan looked him over, allowing himself to feel the harshness those words had to offer. Eric looked at him, realizing what he'd said hit him and, for the first time, felt a pang of sympathy for Stan. Of course he was hurting. They all were. How could Eric have made the mistake of thinking he didn't give a shit?

"Yeah…me too…" Stan said somewhat in a daze.

Eric sighed, gently putting his beer into Stan's hand.

"Thanks for not being hammered when I got home," he said, swallowing his pride.

Stan nodded, downing the last few drinks of Eric's beer, "yeah…for sure."

…

"He's in there Kenny, but he's not awake. He hasn't come out of it at all today…but we're so happy you're here," Sheila informed Kyle's young friend, grasping his hands as she spoke. They were just outside of Kyle's room, the Broflovski's trying to prepare Kenny for just how bad it was.

Kenny nodded, his girlfriend by his side rubbing his back supportively.

"Okay…you can go in there and say a few words to him, if you'd like," Sheila went on, letting go of Kenny's soft hands and stepping back to lean on her husband. He rubbed her shoulder affectionately.

Kenny breathed in sharply before nodding at her and heading into Kyle's room. Alley stayed outside with Kyle's parents, knowing Kenny was going to need a few minutes alone.

It was sort of surreal as he walked into his room, noting the sterile smell of the hospital and the horrible fluorescent lighting.

He tilted his head as he walked up beside him, grabbing his hand and looking him over. He was so frail, clearly having lost a tremendous amount of weight. His skin was pale and his hair was all matted to his forehead as he audibly struggled to breath. Holy shit. This was really happening.

"Kyle…" Kenny said softly, not wanting anyone else to hear what he had to say, "I just wanted to tell you that I'm here. I'm so sorry it took me this long…I let my own bullshit get in the way and I'm so, so sorry for that…"

As he looked at him, seeing just how close he was to death he felt a deep pit form in his stomach. Just yesterday he had been sitting on his bathroom floor contemplating suicide. How could he have done that? How selfish of him! Here was Kyle, one of his oldest friends, hanging on by a thread and he had actually been thinking of prematurely taking his life. He felt like such a dick.

"…I promise you I'm going to be better…I won't be afraid…." He finished as he squeezed his friend's hand.

It was amazing; Kyle hadn't done or said anything to him, but somehow, just looking him over, he knew what he had to do.


	5. Chapter 5

Bittersweet Bundle of Misery

Chapter 5 – Me You, We Two

By: StalkerDex

(Author's note: okay…so I'm trying really hard not to dive into the pairing too quickly and ruin all of the beautiful angst and tension! Thanks for your patience! I believe it's about time to get the ball rolling now, seeing as we're already in chapter five! Let the Stanman commence!)

"Get off of the couch, Stan…I'm serious…you're coming with me…" Eric demanded, grabbing Stan's arm and yanking him up.

"Fuck you, Cartman…I'm not going!" he shouted, yanking his arm back and puffing up his chest a bit. There was no way in Hell he was going to let Eric tell him what to do.

Cartman gritted his teeth before shoving his old friend's chest, pushing him back on the couch. Stan hit his head on the back of their worn couch, causing a little light headedness on his part. Still, he folded his arms across his chest and stayed put.

Eric glared at him, as if daring him to really just sit there on his ass.

"Are you really going to do this? After the call I just got from Sheila? Really! I fucking hate you Stan…you've really let yourself turn into a piece of shit, you know that?"

Stan stared straight ahead of him, refusing to make eye contact with that fat asshole. It wasn't his business whether or not he went to see Kyle before he died.

"Goddamnit!" Eric shouted, grabbing Stan's collar and pulling him towards him, their noses touching as they glared at one another, "the fuck is wrong with you? He's got hours…what do you not understand about that! You're never going to see him again…you're okay with not going to say goodbye…after you drove all the way out here! What was this to you! A fucking vacation!"

"Fuck you, Eric…Fuck you!" Stan screamed as he shoved him away, causing Eric to stumble backwards, though unable to make him fall. He felt his stomach lurch as Eric jumped on top of him, pinning him down on the couch. He was straddling him and gripping his collar as he shook him violently.

"Fuck you, you goddamn asshole!" Eric hollered back, "after this is over you're out of here…you got it! You're useless! You don't do any good for anyone…all you've done since you've gotten here is drink and stand in my way! You go to Hell Stan Marsh…you go to fucking Hell!"

Stan attempted to shove him off once more, though found himself unable. In a moment of uncontrollable rage, he punched Eric square in the jaw. Eric's head flew back with the punch and he held it there for a moment, letting his anger settle before looking back down at him and letting lose.

He socked him right in the face as hard as he could manage. And just like that the two of them were pounding on each other, rolling around on the couch in a violent struggle for dominance. In that moment, they both hated each other more than anything.

"I fuckin' hate you Cartman…you're a goddamn fat fucking piece of shit!" Stan hollered out between blows, now having Cartman pinned beneath him.

Eric shoved him off, causing him to fall back and hit his head on the arm rest of the couch, sending him into a dizzy spiral of confusion. He wasn't going to recover from that one quick enough to continue their fight. Eric had bested him.

"Goddamnit," he mumbled, struggling not to slur his words in his daze.

"Yeah…goddamnit, Stan…goddamnit," he repeated, wiping a bit of blood from his mouth. Stan had popped him pretty good in the mouth.

Stan looked up at him, a small hint of guilt washing over him in all of his defiance. He felt like a real dick as Eric shook his head at him, grabbed his leather jacket off of the couch and made his way out the door, slamming it forcefully behind him. He had really done it this time.

"Fuck…" he whispered to himself as he leaned his head back, struggling to find his center. Goddamnit…how had he let it get this far? He had been staying with Eric for weeks now and had chance after to chance to visit with Kyle. There were even a few times when he was lucid and he hadn't grown a pair and visited. What kind of friend was he? How could he have ever had a shot at being with him when he couldn't even gain the courage to be a worthy friend? He felt useless and, as he laid there in his dazed state, his eyes landed on a full bottle of beer placed conveniently on the coffee table beside him. He swallowed hard as he stared at it, the temptation almost too much to bear.

"You're an asshole…" he reminded himself as he reached for it.

…

"Goddamn, motherfucking, asshole, cock sucking piece of hippie trash…" Eric ranted to himself as he drove towards the hospital, his heart pounding in his chest. It was unbelievable to him. He had watched him on the phone. Sheila was bawling and he was choking back tears of his own. A long moment of silence had passed between them once he'd hung up and he informed him of the situation. Kyle was going to die; he was going to die tonight.

Basically, everyone had one last shot to say goodbye to him and Stan had simply sat on the couch, staring at the television set. He didn't say a goddamn word to him! Not one mother fucking word! How could he do that? He and Kyle had been best friends for so much of their childhood, and Eric had always been so envious of what they had. Did the alcohol really have that much of a hold on him? No…no it didn't. He had just grown up into a royal douche bag and he didn't have the energy to do anything about it.

He felt like he wanted to vomit as he pulled into the hospital parking lot and got out of his car, running hastily towards Kyle's room. He wished he hadn't have spent so much time trying to get Stan to come. It had been such a mother fucking waste of his time.

"Fuck…" he whispered to himself once more, standing before Kyle's door, taking a moment to settle himself before entering.

As he walked in he saw Sheila first, her round face drenched with tears. She was clutching a tissue to her chest, her hands shaking as she stared down at her son. He couldn't imagine what the loss must feel like to her. Not only was she crying, but Gerald was too, which was a bitter pill to swallow for Eric. Up until now Gerald had managed to keep that all inside and it was a real wake up call to see.

"Hi," Eric said softly as he slowly inched his way beside Kyle. He wasn't awake. He would never be awake again.

"Oh Eric…hello…" Sheila said as she walked over to him and threw her arms around his neck, standing on her tippy toes, "thank you so much for being here…"

Eric hugged her tight before nuzzling his face into her neck. He felt like he was going to lose it, though somehow managed to hold it back.

"I wouldn't be anywhere else," he insisted as he let go of her, rubbing her shoulders as he stood before her, struggling to hold back his tears, "where's Ike?"

"Kenny took him to get some water. He's having a hard time…" Sheila replied, folding her arms and looking down at the ground sadly. She knew Ike was going to be lost without his older brother to guide him.

Eric nodded before looking towards Gerald. Fuck…he really didn't know what to say.

"Stan isn't coming…?" Sheila asked, causing Eric to give her his attention once more. Damn it…he was really hoping she wouldn't ask about him.

"No…he, uh…" he struggled to find words that would justify his absence but found himself unable. He simply shook his head at her before sighing, "…no, he's not coming."

Sheila bit her lower lip before walking back over to her husband, thoroughly disappointed. It was bad enough that Stan hadn't made it over before Kyle had lost the ability of consciousness, now he wasn't even going to say goodbye. She fully intended on blocking him out of the funeral if he had any plans of attending.

Eric could see the anger on her face and felt so guilty that he was unable to make Stan go. That goddamn pussy.

"Hi Eric…" Kenny's voice greeted as he entered the hospital room, a much older Ike standing by his side. Up until this point Eric hadn't seen Ike. His parents didn't want him to miss too much school so they'd left him in South Park, flying him out once Kyle had taken a turn for the worst.

"Hey Kenny," he answered, walking over and giving him a long hug. There was an unspoken understanding between the two before they let go and Eric smiled gently towards Ike.

"Hey…"

"Hey, Cartman," Ike replied, having not seen him since he'd started to go by his first name. He couldn't help but feel a little nauseated as he was reminded of his childhood. Kyle had been such a big part of it.

"Okay…so…we figured we'd let each of you have some time alone with him to say goodbye," Sheila spoke up, "we've already said what we needed to, so you and Kenny just figure out who wants to go first. We'll be in the waiting room."

Eric watched as the tear ridden Broflovski's all gathered together and left the room, leaving Kenny and he to decide.

"You go first…I'll wait outside," Eric insisted, nodding at Kenny.

Kenny swallowed hard and nodded back, waiting to move until his friend had left the room. Once he found himself alone, he trudged over to Kyle's side and watched him for a moment. His breathing was heavy and forced, his emerald eyes shut and red hair matted to his forehead. He was just barely hanging on.

"Kyle…" he began, feeling a little awkward, "…I'm not sure what to say really. You know how I feel about you, dude. We've been friends basically forever and…well…I'm just sorry that I wasn't a better friend the last few years. I got caught up in my own shit. And I have to tell you…up until this point I hadn't realized how precious life really is. I've spent so much time worrying about death and how soon it might come that I haven't bothered to enjoy what time I have right now. I promise I won't ever do that again and, well…in a way you've kind of saved my life…"

He took in a deep breath as he struggled to keep himself composed, "…I'm gonna miss you, buddy. I'm gonna miss you so much…"

With that he took a few moments to observe his friend before composing himself and making his way out of the room, raising his eyebrows at Eric as he did so.

"It's your turn…"

Eric nodded before patting Kenny's shoulder and letting himself into the room. The white walls almost seemed to emit a monotonous ringing sound as he entered, noting the fact that there was really only one living person in the room. Kyle was as good as dead and he wasn't even sure if it really mattered what he said to him. Still…he definitely had a few things he wanted to get off of his chest.

"Hey Jew…" Eric said softly as he walked up beside him, had a seat and gently grabbed his hand. It was moist from the sheer effort it was taking him just to breathe. He felt his stomach drop as he looked him over, watching as each and every breath seemed to grow harder than the last. He breathed in sharply as he allowed a tear to fall down his cheek.

"…I, uh…I don't know if you can really hear me or not. I…I just had to tell you that, uh…" he breathed in harsh as a small sob escaped him. He was looking up at the ceiling, unable to gaze at his friend's angelic face as he breathed heavily, struggling to control his wavering voice. It was futile.

"…I had to tell you that I'm in love with you. I've…fuck…" he let out another sob and sniffled a bit, wiping his eyes before continuing, "…I've been in love with you for most of my life, Kyle…and I'm going to miss all the amazing times that we had…I'm going to miss every goddamn thing about you…"

That was about all he could take before he started to cry, squeezing Kyle's hand, "fuck, Kyle…I don't want you to go…" he sobbed as he leaned over and rested his head on his hand. After quite some time he managed to calm himself down and found himself laying there, listening to Kyle's breathing. The time between breaths was growing…alarmingly so.

Suddenly, he sat himself up looking hopelessly at him. His heart began to race as he listened for his breathing. Breathe Kyle. Fucking breathe Kyle…

"Sheila! Sheila!" Eric screamed as he realized it had been too long. Was that it? Had he gone…just like that…? No…Kyle couldn't be gone. He just couldn't.

Sheila busted into the room frantically at the sound of Eric's panicked voice. Gerald, Ike and Kenny followed suit. They all surrounded Kyle's bed as a nurse entered the room behind them, walking up beside Eric and gently pushing him aside. They all waited, the air tense as she checked for a pulse. It only took her a few seconds, but if felt like minutes as they waited for her diagnoses.

"I'm sorry…" she said sympathetically as she lifted her head to meet Sheila's eyes, "…he's gone."

In an instant Sheila started to fall and cry hysterically. Gerald caught her as he also started to cry, his living son grabbing the both of them and hugging them. Eric bowed his head and put his hand over his mouth, gasping as sobs continuously escaped his lips. He didn't want to cry in front of them but found himself unable to stop it.

Kenny suddenly grabbed him and hugged him close, tears silently flowing down his cheeks.

Eric's face was the portrait of heartache as he kept his hand over his mouth, shuttering helplessly. Suddenly, he grabbed Kenny's arm and allowed himself to lean into him, letting it all out.

"What happened…?" a voice suddenly asked from the room's doorway. Everyone looked up towards it, a little shocked.

Eric bit his lower lip as he struggled to contain himself. However, he found himself unable and, in a moment of complete heartbreak, he marched over to Stan and slapped him across the face. A heavy silence fell over everyone in the room as the two of them stood before each other. Stan looked at the ground as Eric answered him, waves of shame and sadness washing over him.

"You missed him…you fucking missed him you goddamn asshole!"

Stan managed to lift his head and look at everyone. Sheila was clutching onto Gerald and Ike, who were all looking at him with disappointment. Kenny was standing alone, averting his gaze to the ground in the awkwardness of the moment and Eric…fuck…Eric looked like he wanted to kill him. He opened his mouth to speak, though found himself unable. Instead, he just let out a sudden sob. Eric watched him, a little confused as Stan turned around and started to walk away.

"Hey…wait…where are you going!" Eric demanded as he started to follow him. They made their way out into the waiting room before Stan turned to look at him.

"I missed him…I fucking missed him…I finally got the nerve to come and say goodbye and I fucking missed him!" Stan shouted before turning and punching the wall beside him forcefully. Eric stood before him, blinking stupidly at him as Stan started to cry. He hadn't realized he was still capable of feeling so strongly.

"Stan…hey…relax…it's gonna be alright," Eric suddenly said, almost involuntarily as he grabbed onto his friend, pulling him close.

It felt weird as Stan sobbed into his shoulder. He felt strangely frail in his arms as his shoulders shook and he let it out for the first time. For whatever reason, despite everything that had happened, Eric felt an overwhelming sympathy and wrapped his arms around him tightly. He wasn't going to dare let him go.

"Fuck Eric…I love Kyle so much…" Stan sobbed, also wrapping his arms around his friend and clutching onto him as hard as he could.

Eric felt a little besieged as Stan seemed to lose his footing and leaned into him. As Stan lost all of his strength Eric slowly knelt down and allowed Stan to cry on him.

"I loved him so much…I fucking would've done anything for him and I just couldn't face him…I couldn't do it after what happened between us…" he wailed.

What the hell did he mean by 'what happened between' them?

"Stan…what the fuck are you talking about?" Eric asked, selfishly intrigued by what he had to say.

"I'm saying I fucking fell in love with him…and he didn't want me…that's why I didn't come to see him…everyone's been giving me such a goddamn fucking hard time but nobody fucking bothered to ask me what the fuck I was feeling…!" he whined, not really caring what he exposed about himself in that moment. It was always in the most hopeless of times that people let their guard down and shared a little more than they probably should have.

"W…what?" Eric stammered, caught completely off guard.

Stan didn't reply and, as he cried into his shoulder, Eric suddenly had more of an understanding than he'd ever had for his dear old friend. A pained look made it's way across his face as he put his hand to the back of Stan's head and ran his fingers through his black hair in an effort to relax him. They stayed this way for several minutes before Stan pulled himself off of Eric and forcefully wiped the tears away from his face.

"I'm going home…"

"No you're not Stan…you're staying with me. You're going to his funeral…"

Stan blinked at him stupidly, "seriously? I missed him…do you really think anyone's going to want me there?"

"No…but it doesn't matter if they want you there or not, does it? You need to be there…for you," Eric insisted, grabbing Stan's arm.

Stan looked towards the ceiling and let out a heavy sigh, "yeah…yeah I want to go."

"Okay, so suck it up and stay a few more days, alright?"

Stan nodded before letting out a shaky breath. Eric nodded back.

"Okay…go back to my house alright? I'm going to talk to Sheila and Gerald. I'll be home in about half an hour or so, okay?"

Stan nodded again in compliance before putting his hand on Eric's shoulder and looking at him sincerely.

"Thanks…uh…for not giving up on me or whatever."

Eric smirked at him, "yeah, sure…"

Cartman felt his stomach drop a little bit as he watched Stan walk away. He honestly didn't know if he would be there when he got home, but he was taking a big leap of faith and giving him the chance to decide for himself whether he stayed or not.

Eric breathed in as he entered Kyle's room once more, the family having calmed themselves quite a bit, though still sniffling and wiping tears away here and there. At least they weren't hysterical anymore.

"I'm sorry, Sheila," Eric offered, referring to the fact that he had bitch slapped Stan earlier.

"It's okay, honey…I know how you feel," she replied as she hugged him again. She was always hugging him.

"Is there anything I can do for you tonight? Anything at all?" he asked. He didn't want to leave without having offered some sort of help, though he figured she would probably just want it to be family.

"No, sweetie. Just go home and get some rest. Gerald and I have a few things we need to handle."

Eric nodded before embracing her once more. He also shook hands with Gerald and shared hugs with Kenny and Ike before leaving the hospital. It had been strange as he walked down it's long, empty corridors. This was the last time he would ever walk through them; the last few moments he'd ever have with Kyle; the last time he could ever see he was, at that moment, in love with Kyle Broflovski.

…

Stan was standing in Eric's living room, grasping onto his keys and staring at the front door. It was so tempting to just hop into that truck of his and run away from it all. Then he would never have to face Sheila, or Gerald or Ike. It was hard enough the mere seconds he'd just put himself through looking at their heartbroken faces. He knew they all must've hated him for what he'd done. After all, the Broflovski's had been nothing but family towards him. In fact, even after he and Kyle had all together stopped speaking they would call every so often just to see how he was doing. Of course, he being the asshole he was, had stopped taking their calls for no real reason at all. He simply found life was easier when he had less people to worry about not disappointing.

He felt his stomach lurch as he stared at that door, trying to figure out which was the better option. Then…there was Eric. If he left he knew Cartman would never forgive him and, for whatever goddamned reason, he really was starting to give a shit about what Eric thought of him. It was stupid. He had hated that fat, racist asshole for the majority of his life yet…now he was slowly starting to matter more and more to him.

"Fuck!" he shouted as he threw his keys across the room, resigning to the fact that he had to stay and face the music. He owed Kyle at least that much.

He put his hand to his head as he walked over to the couch and collapsed atop it, leaning far back into it as tears started to pour out once more. He whined childishly as he struggled to deal with the situation. He wanted a drink; he wanted a drink so fucking bad.

"Hey…" Eric's voice suddenly rang out as he entered the house, locking the door behind him and dropping his keys on a small table he kept beside the door.

"Hey…" Stan whined as he dropped his hand to the couch and looked up at Eric helplessly.

Eric looked his friend over sympathetically before sighing and having a seat beside him. A long moment of silence passed between the two of them as Stan managed to get a hold of himself, staring absently at the wall before him. Eric spoke up first.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Are you fucking kidding me? Why would I tell you? You're the biggest douche on the planet…you would've never let me live that down!" Stan replied, finding it a little audacious that Cartman asked him that in the first place.

Eric shook his head, focusing on his hands, which were placed restlessly in his lap.

"You might be surprised Stan…"

Stan narrowed his eyes and looked at Eric angrily, "what the fuck does that mean?"

Eric continued to stare at his hands as he mindlessly played with them. This wasn't going to be an easy thing for him to say, but he could tell it was time.

"…I mean…I understand exactly what you're going through…"

"Goddamnit Eric…" Stan said softly as he shook his head, "…don't pretend like you get this, okay? Just don't…there's no way in Hell you understand what I feel right now."

"Stan…I'm serious…" he said, causing his friend to look at him. They were maintaining a rather intense eye contact at this point, "I fell in love with him, too. I never did anything about it…but I really, really loved him."

Stan opened his mouth, looking Eric over. Did he really just say that to him? Eric shifted uncomfortably beneath his gaze and started to avert his eyes. However, he was interrupted by Stan as he touched his cheek and forced him to look at him.

"You're gay…?"

Stan was leaning back into the couch again. His eyes were half way open and Eric could see that he was exhausted. He was pretty tired too and, allowed by Stan's suddenly tired state, he leaned back as well, looking at his old friend with honesty in his eyes. They'd never seen one another like this before.

"Yeah…yeah I'm gay…"

"So why do you keep fucking around with so many women?" Stan asked, utterly confused.

"Oh please…like you've never fucked a girl…" Eric retorted, still leaning, though looking down at his lap.

The air between them was shifting.

"Yeah…I have..." he admitted, surprised that he finally had someone who could relate to him on the subject, "you know…I haven't told anyone else that I'm gay. Like…nobody else on the planet knows…" Stan explained, trying to let Eric know he had sensitive information.

Eric let out a soft, breathy laugh before looking back up at Stan, a fondness in his eyes that caused his stomach to ache. His heart was starting to pound in his chest.

"Me neither. I've never even really said it out loud."

Stan smirked at him, his blue eyes stunning. All the lights were off in the living room and the brightness of the moon shining through his glass doors was the only thing providing any light for the two of them. Stan was absolutely immaculate, the bags having disappeared from beneath his eyes since he hadn't had a drink all day.

"You didn't drink the beer I left on the table," Eric suddenly said, noticing that the top was off but none of it was missing.

"Yeah…I thought about it. I thought about it a lot, actually but…uh…I decided it was time I go and say goodbye to Kyle."

Eric looked at him, noting the sadness in his friend's eyes as he admitted the struggle he'd had. Stan was very much like him; opening up was not easy to do. They both numbed themselves, Eric with women and Stan with alcohol.

Eric swallowed as he looked at him, their faces just a few inches away from each other. His stomach was aching so badly as he watched Stan's face. He looked like he felt the same.

"Are you going to kiss me?" Stan said softly, a little out of breath. They were both fighting their heavily beating hearts and sinking stomach's.

"Yes…" Eric replied before slowly leaning in.

He got close enough so that their noses could touch and hovered there for a moment, both of them breathing heavy with uncertainty. It felt like things would change forever if they allowed this to happen and it was frightening for them both.

However, as the adrenaline seemed to pulsate throughout each of their bodies, Eric found the courage and hesitantly put his hand to Stan's cheek as he kissed him gently.

It was a very soft, affectionate kiss, each of them just barely parting their lips not sure if they could go any further. They kissed this way a few times before stopping and looking one another over, fear and confusion visible on each of their faces. Stan breathed in sharply as he realized that Eric Cartman was the only person in the world that he could be real with now; it shocked him.

"I'm tired…" he finally said, his voice still quiet.

"Yeah…me too. I'll, uh…I'll see you in the morning…" Eric assured, feeling an extreme awkwardness as he got off the couch and headed towards his room.

Once in the doorway, however, he stopped and looked behind him. Stan was still sitting just where he'd left him.

"Goodnight, Hippie…" he said sheepishly, worried he wouldn't get a response.

"Goodnight, Asshole…" he replied listlessly from the couch, waving his hand carelessly and letting it drop.

Eric smiled to himself, excited for the first time in a very, very long time.


	6. Chapter 6

Bittersweet Bundle of Misery

Chapter 6 – Hard and Slow

By: StalkerDex

(Author's Note: Smut! I figured it's time for a wee break from all of the horrible sadness!)

Eric had woken before Stan and gone to the hotel the Broflovski's were staying at, meeting up with Kenny as well. They discussed the funeral, which was going to be over the following weekend, giving Eric at least four more days with Stan. He and Kenny were now at the bar having a few brews and talking shit out. Of course, Eric hadn't had the balls yet to bring up what had happened.

"Fuck, dude…it still hasn't really hit me yet…" Kenny admitted, feeling a little ashamed over the fact that he was even able to go out and drink and have a good time with Eric. He should've been locked up in his hotel room unable to move.

Eric nodded, "yeah…me neither. I mean…at first it was like a slap to the face but now I just feel kind of…numb…"

"Yeah, me too…it's a trip," Kenny sighed as he took a swig of his beer. They were sitting at a table rather than the bar this time so Eric didn't have to play mind games with his old booty call this time around. Plus they needed a more intimate setting if they were going to actually discuss shit that mattered.

"So…how was Stan…is he holding up okay?"

That was a good question. He really wasn't sure.

"I, uh…I'm not sure," Eric said slowly, trying to figure out whether or not he even wanted to talk with Kenny about what happened. Perhaps he should just keep it to himself until he found out exactly where they stood with each other. After all, it was just a kiss. It wasn't like they were going to start dating or anything. Maybe it had just been a moment of weakness. They had both been in love with and lost the same person. How could they not test the waters? It was so forbidden on so many levels.

Eric swallowed hard as he thought about, displeased with the sudden surge of sexual arousal he felt. Fuck. He really didn't want to feel this way about Stan. For Christ's sake, Stan had been the enemy ever since he and Kyle went their separate ways.

Of course, with the information he had now, he had a lot more sympathy for Stan. The demise of their friendship wasn't too far from events that very well could've taken place between he and Kyle had he been brave enough to open his mouth. He felt a small amount of sickness rising in his belly as he thought about that one. He really had no goddamn clue how he felt or even what would've been appropriate to feel. It was all such a fucking mess.

"You okay?" Kenny asked, snapping Eric out of his thoughts.

"Yeah…I just had a, um…weird night last night," Eric finally admitted. He really wanted to discuss it. What could it hurt? Clearly Kenny knew about the two of them anyway, he just didn't know that they'd gone there with each other now.

"Why's that?" Kenny nudged, knowing Eric was holding something back. If there was one thing in the world Kenny was good at it was reading other people and knowing when they needed someone to listen. He'd always been the one everyone in the group had turned to when they were all on speaking terms. Of course, it had been many, many years since they were that amicable.

Eric eyed his friend cautiously, still on the fence as to whether or not it was something he should discuss. Kenny gave him a look of understanding before speaking once more.

"Whatever it is, dude, you know I won't tell anyone…"

Eric smirked at him, glad that Kenny could at least see he was worried about the sensitive nature of topic. He let out a sigh, though not overly stressed, as he nervously ran his finger up and down the side of his cold beer bottle.

"Well…when I got home last night Stan and I got to talking and…well, he told me about what happened between him and Kyle."

Kenny nodded, a little relieved that that information was now out in the open. He'd been keeping that secret for years.

"Yeah. I'm sorry I didn't tell you…you understand."

Eric nodded, "oh yeah…no…don't worry about it. I get it…"

"So…what happened?" Kenny asked as he took another sip of his beverage. He knew that something must've occurred after that was exposed.

Eric opened his mouth, sort of smiling to himself as he relished in the humiliation of the moment, "Fuck…uh…well…we kissed…I kissed him. I mean…he asked me to kiss him first, but I did…"

Kenny's eyes widened with shock, though he didn't really look pissed or anything, which was a small amount of relief.

"Seriously? You kissed Stan? You and _Stan_ kissed? Jesus…I'd have thought Hell would freeze over before that one!"

Eric nodded, raising his eyebrows in agreement, "yeah…I know. I haven't had a chance to talk to him since…he was still asleep when I got up to go to the hotel and I've been out ever since."

"So what's he doing right now? Has he texted you at all or anything?" Kenny asked, a little caught up in the gossip of the moment. He was such a goddamn gossip whore. At least he kept his mouth shut though.

Eric took a drink of his beer before nodding in the affirmative, "yeah…he's just chilling at my house. I invited him out…not sure if he's coming or not."

"When did you invite him…what exactly did he say…let me see your phone bitch!" Kenny suddenly demanded, excitement taking him over. Jesus he loved being the confidant so much.

"Jesus…calm down you whore!" Eric retorted, keeping his phone out of Kenny's reach, "I'll read it to you."

Kenny composed himself, grinning from ear to ear. He was pretty excited for the two of them. In all honesty, he was hoping for a long time they would find their way together since he knew Kyle was straight. They'd both been so hung up on him for so long and it was hard for him to watch at times.

Eric shook his head at him, smirking a bit before looking at his phone.

"Okay, I said: _Hey Stan, I'm going out with Kenny for a few drinks. If you want you can come by or whatever._"

Kenny rolled his eyes. Of course he had to throw in the 'or whatever'. They both did that shit all the time. Eric widened his eyes, warning him that he'd better not say anything. Kenny shut his mouth and kept grinning, waving his hand at him, nudging him to go on.

"Right…so he said: _Give me a few minutes I'll hit you up_…and that was all he said."

"When was that?"

"Like five minutes ago…give him some time…"

Kenny was grinning like a goddamn idiot, which caused Eric to chuckle a bit. He knew Stan would come, he just wasn't sure how the night would go once he did. Would things be awkward between them? Would it be like a date? What would they do after? Christ…what _would_ happen afterwards? Should he take him out, like, alone? Or should they just go home and pretend like nothing ever happened? Fuck…he wished he knew where he stood on things.

As his thoughts start to race out of control he suddenly heard his phone go off. He quickly picked it up, keeping his eyes on Kenny for support as he spoke.

"Hey…what's up?" he asked stupidly. Fuck…really? 'What's up'?

"_Hey, Dude. Where's the bar at?_"

"Oh, yeah…it's just Southbound on the right hand side of Orange. You can't miss it…"

Kenny watched eagerly as he listened to Eric give him their location. He could tell he was nervous.

"_Okay. Sweet…I'll be there in like five minutes._"

"Killer…see ya…" Eric replied before quickly pulling his phone away from his ear and clicking it off. He was coming out of his skin with anticipation.

"Jesus…you're pretty worked up over him, aren't ya?" Kenny asked, poking a little fun at Eric. He couldn't resist.

Normally Eric would huff at him and say something insulting but, for whatever reason, he surprised his old friend.

"Yeah…I actually kinda am."

"Oh shit…seriously?" Kenny asked, a little taken aback.

"Yeah," Eric admitted as he shook his head. He seemed completely genuine. Holy shit…what was happening? This was fucking gold to Kenny.

"Wow, dude. I hope tonight is everything you hope for then, I really do."

"Yeah. Thanks. But I don't want to get my hopes up too much, you know? Just in case this is all just some sort of weird emotional trip that is happening between us because of Kyle."

Kenny nodded, "I don't think it is. I think that things happen for a reason. I mean, the two of you were both hung up on the same guy for so fuckin' long…it makes sense that you guys would find each other now."

"You think?" Eric asked, a genuine look of concern on his face. He really cared about what Kenny had to say.

"Yeah, I do."

Eric nodded before continuing, "I just…this is weird. I've never felt anything for Stan ever and last night it was just like…in an instant, you know? I've known him basically my whole life…how could I look at him so differently now?"

"Because…you know something intimate about him you never knew. He trusted you with that information, and it was something about him that maybe, had you known earlier, would've drawn you to him way back when, you know?"

Eric smiled at Kenny, surprised by how much sense that made.

"Thanks, Oprah," he finally retorted, taking the last sip of his beer.

There was the Eric Cartman he knew. Kenny smiled at him before looking just past him, noting that Stan had walked into the bar.

"Here's your boy…" he said, ducking his head a bit and hiding himself behind his drink. Eric turned eagerly and found himself a little breathless at the sight of him. He had clearly taken the time to shower. His hair was very sheik looking, falling neatly over his blue eyes. He was wearing a black suit jacket, a black and snug NOFX shirt, skinny blue jeans and a pair of black lace up boots that went just a few inches up his thin legs. He was a fucking vision.

Eric breathed out softly as Stan walked up beside him, smelling strongly of cologne. He suddenly found himself wishing he'd dressed up a little more. Though, he knew he didn't look bad. He had showered, tossled his hair just right and thrown on a nice, black, long sleeved shirt, dark blue skinny jeans and black vans.

"Hey…" Eric greeted, smiling awkwardly at Stan. Jesus…he really was surprised how far he'd gone out of his way. Kenny smiled at Eric excitedly from across the table, though was doing his best to be discreet.

"Hey," Stan said casually, smirking confidently at Eric. Cartman really felt out of his element; normally he was the cocky motherfucker. He'd never felt so insecure in his life.

"Hi Stan!" Kenny said joyously as he stood up and embraced him, patting his back assuringly. He wanted Stan to know that there was no bad blood between them over what had happened with Kyle.

"Hi…good to see you Kenny…" he said before walking back beside Eric and leaning coolly beside him. He raised his hand up towards the waitress, catching her eye rather easily. Pretty much all the women in the bar were looking at him.

"What can I get you, Doll?" the pretty young blonde asked as she stood before him.

"Can I have a Stella please? And a Heineken for my friend, too…?" he requested, sneaking in his order for Cartman effortlessly.

"So, what's up?" he asked as the waitress walked away.

"Just blowin' off steam, dude," Kenny responded, noting that Eric felt very out of his element. It was his duty as his friend to keep things running smoothly for him.

"Cool," he replied as he had pulled his seat up close to Cartman and got comfortable, "this bar's pretty sweet…a lot better than the dumps in South Park."

Kenny nodded. He hadn't been to a bar there since he'd been of age, but he'd been dragged into enough of them by one parent or another to know they were all dives in Park County.

"So what have you been up to Kenny? You going to school or what?" Stan asked, genuinely curious.

Before Kenny could answer the waitress dropped off Stan and Eric's beers. He thanked her and gave her his card, opening up a tab for himself.

"Yeah, I'm going to school for writing. I want to get a job writing for a big paper, I think. That would be really cool. I write obituaries right now for the local paper."

Eric grabbed his beer and took a large drink of it. He was going to have to be a little more tipsy if he was going to make it through this night.

"That's cool, dude."

"Thanks…so what have you been up to?"

Fuck. He knew he would ask that. And here he was trying to look like a badass in front of Eric.

"I'm working as a VST right now…but I'm thinking of signing up for EMT school."

"Really?" Eric asked, a little surprised. As far as he knew Stan didn't really have an aspirations for himself.

Stan smiled at him warmly, genuinely caught of guard that he was going to impress Eric with that half assed response. He really did mean it though.

"Yeah…I started thinking about it a couple of days ago. I even looked at a school back home…"

Right. Eventually he would have to go back to South Park. Nonetheless, Eric wasn't even sure if he really wanted something serious or not. All he knew was, at that moment, he craved Stan.

"Good for you, Man. That's awesome," Kenny assured, noticing the two of them were getting caught up in one another. He quickly pulled his cell phone out and covertly texted Alley to call him in a few minutes. He needed an excuse to leave the two of them to alone.

"Yeah, thanks," Stan said, sipping on his beer slowly. He was going out of his way not too overdo it. Being around Eric really made him want to better himself; he didn't want to ruin the night by getting smashed. Eric had noticed.

"So, what have you been doing, anyway?" Stan suddenly asked, realizing he had no clue what Cartman had been doing for himself.

"Oh, I've been studying psychology. I got some time off because of the situation with Kyle and everything."

Psychology. How appropriate. Stan and Kenny both couldn't help but wonder if it was a good thing to give Eric Cartman psychological savvy over others. However, it wouldn't have mattered either way. He had always been really intelligent and he was pretty fuckin' good at manipulating and playing on people's emotions. He'd always known what he was doing when it came to getting what he wanted.

Eric scowled at them both, realizing that they were thinking he would be some kind of power hungry psycho-therapist.

"Oh come on…I'm not a kid anymore," he insisted, taking another sizeable drink of his beer.

Stan smiled at him affectionately before patting his head, "sure, Cartman. Whatever you say…"

Kenny started to laugh hysterically as Eric scowled a little more, "fuck you guys."

Stan laughed a bit at him as well, finding him to be completely endearing.

"I'm serious, though," Eric suddenly spoke up, causing Stan to look him in the eyes, "I want to help people. Shit…everyone's got problems. Look at the three of us…we're all fucked up…but it'd be cool to be able to help people get over all of that little shit, you know?"

Stan opened his mouth up a bit, a little speechless. Eric was just full of surprises. When had he become more human? Stan had always been the bleeding heart of the group; certainly not Cartman.

Kenny watched knowingly as the two of them shared a rather long gaze, shaken only by the sound of Kenny's phone firing off.

Stan quickly averted his eyes and cleared his throat, looking at Kenny sheepishly as he answered his phone. Eric was looking at the ceiling as he tipped his head back and finished off his beer. Kenny smirked to himself knowing how awkward it was. He would've bet anyone a thousand dollars they were going to have it out big time tonight.

"Hello?" he asked, doing his best to sound like he had no clue what was going on.

"_Okay…make it look good baby…_" Alley said playfully.

"What? Oh shit…okay…I'll be right there baby…take some cold medicine and ibuprofen, it'll bring the fever down," he said, thoroughly convincing.

"_Oh God baby…I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you with an old cucumber when you get here_," she mocked, enjoying the fact that he had to act in distress no matter what she said.

"It's okay…calm down sweetie…I'm on my way…I love you!"

She chuckled, "_yeah, yeah…I know. See you._"

He wanted to smile, though managed to maintain his stressed out look.

"Your girl is sick?" Stan asked, feeling a pit forming in his stomach. Now he was going to be all alone with Eric.

"Yeah, dudes. I'm sorry…I totally wanted to hang out. I have to go take care of her though…"

Eric stared at him, a little wide eyed. Stan managed to keep his composure.

"Okay…well…see you soon?" he asked, leaning in and giving Kenny a friendly hug.

"Yeah…I'll hit you guys up tomorrow."

Eric seemed totally out of it as Kenny leaned in and gave him a brief hug, whispering in his ear, "you're welcome."

Eric cleared his throat, frozen in his seat, "Bye, Kenny. See ya."

"Yup…later bitches!" he said as he waved his hand carelessly, hurrying out of the bar.

And so they were alone. Stan was standing beside Eric, struggling his hardest not to down his beer. No…not tonight. He had to get out of that fucking bar.

"Let's get outta here…" he said, grabbing Eric's arm and walking up to the bar.

They both closed out their tabs before Stan grabbed Eric once more and led him outside.

"Where are we going?" Eric asked, a little confused. He was buzzed enough that he wasn't able to see what Stan was trying to do for him.

"Uh…I dunno…" Stan admitted as they stood aimlessly in the parking lot.

Eric looked him over for a second before excitedly grabbing Stan's arm and pulling him, "I know…this way hippie."

Stan couldn't help but smile. He was starting not to mind being called a hippie so much. It was sort of endearing.

"Where are we going?" he questioned, trying not to grin too much as Eric somewhat shakily led Stan onto the beach.

"There's a cool spot over this way…I found it a while ago with Kyle…we used to go there and get super fucked up and talk a bunch of shit," he explained as he pulled him further out onto the beach.

Stan felt a little pang of sadness at the mention of Kyle. However, he managed to keep his mouth shut as they approached a rather large, black rock.

"Okay…now we have to be careful," Eric insisted as he started to climb up it.

"Woah dude…are you sure you should be doing that?" Stan asked, knowing very well that Eric wasn't sober.

"Yeah…I've done this a million times…come on," he insisted, extending his hand towards Stan.

Stan smirked at him, a little doubt in his eyes, before grabbing his hand and allowing Eric to lead him over the rock. It was a little slippery, but the two of them managed to get to the top. There was a long ridge down the side that made it easy to walk down into a rather large, isolated area of beach.

"Oh shit…this is pretty cool…" Stan admitted as their feet touched base.

"Yeah…it is, huh?" Eric replied as he walked a little further center. There were giant black rocks surrounding the whole area, literally isolating them from the rest of the world. Stan couldn't help but notice they were once again only accompanied by the cooling comfort of the moon's light. It was pretty fucking romantic.

"I can see why you used to bring Kyle here," he said, sadness heavy in his voice as he walked up beside Eric, having a seat beside him. Cartman had already made himself comfortable.

Eric swallowed hard as he looked at Stan, noting how soft and appealing Stan's face really was. Fuck he was good looking.

"Yeah, well…I wanted to bring you here," he admitted, trying to express to Stan it didn't have anything to do with Kyle.

Stan nodded at him, silently understanding, "so…this is really happening then?" he asked.

"Yeah, I guess so," he replied, seeming to be a little dazed.

Stan squinched up his face a bit with doubt, "so…are you into me or just into the fact that we're both dealing with the same loss?"

Eric looked out at the ocean for a few seconds before answering, "honestly, Stan…I don't know yet."

Stan nodded, a little disappointed. He couldn't really explain why that bothered him so much. Suddenly Eric was looking at him and continued to speak.

"…I do know that I care about you, though…I care about you a lot."

Stan felt his heart skip a beat as he met his gaze. Lust was very visible in his eyes.

"I care about you, too…more than I should," Stan admitted.

The two of them stared at each other for a few moments before Stan started to lean in, wanting to kiss him. Eric leaned in a bit as well, letting Stan rest his hand on his face as he planted a gentle kiss on his lips.

They were just as shaky and hesitant as they'd been the night before, however both of them knew they were on the same page this time. Stan was the first one daring to take it a step further as he opened up his mouth a bit and gently slid his tongue into the warmth of Eric's mouth. Cartman responded to it well, opening his mouth and grabbing the back of Stan's neck, pulling him close.

He was pleased as Stan let out a breathy moan, giving Eric the guts he needed to get through this. They kissed heatedly for several minutes before allowing themselves to fall back into the sand, Stan positioning himself on top of Eric.

They could both feel their hearts beating heavily as Stan began to get a little more aggressive. He breathed heavily and started to kiss him feverishly, tugging slightly at his brown hair. Eric let out an uncontrollable gasp as Stan pulled his head back just a bit and started kissing his neck. Fuck…he was very domineering. He was overwhelmed by him.

He couldn't control his gasps and sighs as Stan sucked on his neck lustfully, only stopping quick enough to pull his shirt up over his head.

"C'mere…" he whispered, a little out of breath as he lifted Eric up and threw the shirt down behind him.

He was sitting on Eric's lap, making it easy for Eric to remove his jacket and shirt. He couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed as he looked at how good of shape Stan was in. Despite the fact that he was a dreadful alcoholic, he had a very trim and shapely physique.

"You look so fucking hot," Stan suddenly gasped as though he knew what Eric was thinking.

Eric felt his stomach drop as Stan pushed him back down, allowing him to land atop his shirt. It felt good to keep the sand off of his back.

"I've never done this before…" Eric admitted as he Stan unzipped his pants. Stan stopped and affectionately rested himself atop Eric, planting a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose.

"Don't worry…I'll make sure you enjoy yourself."

As he laid atop him and maintained a very intense eye contact Eric gasped at the feel of his hands down his pants. He scooted his hips down just a bit before pushing Eric's pants down low enough to grab what he wanted.

Eric whined a bit with anticipation as Stan pulled a small bottle of lube out of his pocket.

"It's okay…I promise…" Stan assured as he settled back down on top of him. Their noses were touching and Stan was looking into his eyes supportively as he grabbed him and started to move rhythmically. Eric's breathing was very shallow as he relished in the ecstasy that Stan's warm, soft hand was providing him.

"See…doesn't that feel good?" Stan halfway asked.

Eric nodded at him before putting his hand to the back of his neck, breathing in sharply as he kissed him. They made out for quite some time while Stan continued to give Eric the best hand job he'd ever had, stopping once it had started to feel like he could cum.

"Can I?" Stan asked, rubbing Eric's chest as he planted kisses affectionately on his cheek.

"Is it going to hurt?" Eric asked, a little nervous.

Stan smiled at him warmly, continuing to shower him with gentle kisses.

"A little…but it will feel good after a few minutes, I promise you."

Eric nodded at him.

"Okay…"

Stan kissed his neck a few more times before sitting himself up and applying the lube. Eric could feel his heart racing as Stan once again returned to the top of him.

"Okay…you ready?" he asked, gently starting to push his hips forward.

Eric nodded again, biting his lower lip as he felt Stan gently start to push inside him. It was a thrilling mixture of pain and pleasure as he slowly made his way in. His face showed a considerable amount of discomfort, which Stan was sensitive to. He'd already experimented with his sexuality enough to know what he was doing, so he was going to do his best to make this pleasurable for Eric.

"Shhhh…" he hushed gently into Eric's ear as he moved slowly, "it's okay…"

The soft whispering he was feeding him was actually helping a considerable amount and it wasn't long before Stan was able to fully penetrate him and move at an adequate speed. As he rhythmically moved inside of him he made sure to take care of Eric as well. He wanted them to climax together.

It was thrilling as he watched Eric, totally naïve beneath him. He never thought he would have the opportunity to dominate Eric like this and it excited him more than anyone had ever been able to before.

"Okay…okay…" Eric suddenly started to yell.

Stan sped up as he felt Eric start to shake violently beneath him. He started to moan a bit as he also orgasmed forcefully.

"Fuck…!" He cried as he let out his final push and collapsed on top of Eric, breathing heavily into his neck.

They stayed this way, simply enjoying the afterglow of the new and amazing sex they'd just had for quite sometime before finally deciding they should make their way back to Eric's house.

They shared Eric's bed that night for the first time, neither of them knowing just what any of it all meant.


	7. Chapter 7

Bittersweet Bundle of Misery

Chapter 7 – Freakin' Out

By: StalkerDex

(Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews :) I'm glad y'all like the story. And yes…Stan being the dominant one is very much an experiment in this story haha. Sorry this chapter is so short…I've been writing some rather long ones but this is about it for this part! Kenny's role in the story is finally being revealed!)

Fuck. Fuck…fuck…fuck! He was running so fast, the shadowy figure closing in on him once more. He knew it was a nightmare. He had the same one damn near every night; still, he couldn't shake this terrible feeling. Something was going horribly wrong. Death was just around the corner, he could feel it. How could he have been so fucking dumb? Why did he make that deal? He passed up on a lifetime full of happiness with Alley just so he could stop dying over and over. At least then he knew he would come back. Now he realized he could go at any given moment, and he probably would.

As he pondered this, he found his legs slowing down. Perhaps he should face this demon? He'd been running from it for so fucking long…and after all…it was only a dream, right?

Yes. It was only a dream. What harm could it do? He abruptly stopped and turned, gritting his teeth as he prepared to face the dark figure. Black, cloudy mist surrounded the figure as it approached him slowly, not seeming to make any aggressive advances towards him, which was a little surprising. He half expected it to snatch him up and drag him to Hell.

"What the fuck do you want, Asshole!" he demanded, doing his best to be brave.

The figure stepped into the dim light of the alleyway, revealing it's face. It was the man! The man who had taken away his power! Shit…that made sense. He was wearing a long, black trench coat, a black shirt, black jeans and black boots. Christ…he looked like one of those fucking Goth assholes.

"Hey Kenny…I've been trying to talk to you…too bad you kept running…you could've saved him."

Kenny narrowed his eyes towards him, a pained look crossing his face.

"What do you mean?"

His old friend smirked callously at him, "Kyle, of course. If you would've just grown a pair earlier you could've saved him…well, at a price."

He shook his head, confusion and anger taking him over. He balled his hands up into fists as he started to shake angrily.

"What…? How the fuck could I have saved Kyle? I had nothing to do with him getting sick…!" he shouted out, hesitation appearing for a split second as he thought about it, "…did I…?"

The ominous man continued to smirk at him, "More than you know. Did you really think I took away that power without a price?"

Kenny felt his stomach drop. Fuck…really? But…

"…Why Kyle? Why would he die? He had nothing to do with me…"

"Kenny…life and death have a balance. All of those times that you died counted for something. Those lives have to be taken elsewhere…did you really think you wouldn't have consequences? You're not stupid kid…"

Kenny blinked at him in confusion, "…well…I…wait…so…you're telling me Kyle seriously died because that was supposed to be one of my death's?"

He nodded towards him solemnly, "And let me ask you this, Kenny…how long do you think it will be before someone else you love dies…?"

"FUCK!" He shouted as he shot up, gasping for air. He was freezing, though drenched in a thick layer of sweat.

"FUCK! FUCK! GODDAMNIT!" He screamed, punching his pillow and throwing himself out of bed, "MOTHER FUCKER PIECE OF SHIT ASSHOLE!"

"Oh my God…Kenny…what's going on!" Alley shouted, now sitting up in the bed. She looked terrified. He felt horrible that he was scaring her but he was seeing red. He literally couldn't stop himself.

"FUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKKK!" He screamed some more, punching the hotel wall forcefully.

"Baby…Jesus…calm the fuck down!" she insisted, hopping out of bed and running over to him.

"Don't touch me!" he insisted, shoving her away. She fell backwards onto the floor, staring at him wide eyed. Shit.

They looked at each other, shocked, before Kenny finally managed to get a hold of himself, "Oh fuck…baby…I'm so sorry…"

"Fuck off!" she yelled as he tried to rub her back. She pushed him away from her and stomped off, locking herself in the bathroom.

She was panting heavily as she looked at herself in the mirror. Her short black hair was a fright atop her head and there were large, dark circles under her eyes. Her face was reddened from her violent confrontation with her boyfriend. What the fuck was going on with him! These nightmares were getting worse. She was really reaching the end of her rope.

"Shit…" she muttered to herself as she quickly grabbed the generic hotel robe that was hanging on the door. She was only in her panties. She threw it on angrily before taking a deep breath and opening the door to see Kenny, on his hands and knees sobbing heavily.

"What the fuck is going on, Kenny?" she asked, though she was speaking softly now. The calm after the storm had settled in.

"Oh fuck, Alley…I'm so sorry…I'm so sorry…" he sobbed.

She sighed heavily before walking over to him and having a seat beside him, wrapping her arms around his trembling shoulders.

"Shhhh…baby…it's okay…" she cooed as she started to rock him back and forth.

"I don't know that the Hell is happening to me…" he cried some more. He was gasping for air.

"Shhhh…" she continued as she started to rub his arms, holding him as close as she could manage, "…baby…whatever this is we're gonna get through it, okay? We're gonna find a way to make it better…"

He simply cried into her shoulder helplessly, not able to respond. He wanted to believe what she was saying but he knew the cold hard truth was that there was no way for her to help. He'd basically sentenced his loved ones to death and he had no way of knowing who was next and he certainly didn't know how to stop it. Fuck…he'd really fucked up this time.

…

"Hey…are you okay?" Stan asked from outside the bathroom door. Eric had woken him with a tremendous coughing fit, which had eventually resolved itself in the bathroom. In the long silence thereafter, Stan found himself growing a little concerned.

"I'm fine…" he replied, a little worry in his voice.

Stan stood nervously outside the door, "Well…o…okay…"

Eric was shaking in the bathroom, listening for Stan to go away. He didn't want him to see the alarming amount of blood he'd just coughed up.

He was standing over the toilet, trying to get his body to stop trembling as a pool of blood dripped out of his hand into the water below. His throat was burning up as he allowed a few tears to fall down his face. What the fuck? Why was this happening? This was the third time in the last three weeks it had occurred and he was doing his best to keep it from everyone. Perhaps it was about time he went to see a doctor…

"I'm gonna make the bed…" Stan said stupidly from the other side of the door, obviously not knowing what was happening or what he should do.

Eric nodded before breathlessly responding, "yeah…okay, hippie. I'll be out in a minute…"

He heard Stan walk away from the door and quickly started to pull a large amount of toilet paper off of the roll, forcefully wiping his bloody hand with it. He was shaking violently the whole time.

Once his hand was clean he quickly checked around the bathroom, wiping a few spatters of blood from various places before tossing the bloodied tissue into the toilet and flushing it.

He swallowed hard and let out a deep breath as he started to calm his nerves. He sat down beside the toilet, propping his elbow on the seat and resting his head on his hand as he took in several deep breaths. What the fuck was happening? Had he caught some freakish virus? Did he have something really serious wrong? Or was it just something stupid?

As he sat there fumbling through his thoughts his body had stopped shaking. He slowly stood himself up, letting out a long sigh before walking in front of the mirror and looking at himself. He looked like hell.

He shook his head, disappointed at how wrecked he looked. He really didn't want Stan to see him like this, but he couldn't stay in the bathroom all day either. He quickly turned on the faucet and tossed some cold water onto his face before wiping it off gently with a towel. It didn't really help all that much.

"Damn…" he whispered as he finally opened the bathroom door to see Stan tossing pillows onto the freshly made bed.

"Hey…" Stan greeted sheepishly. They had slept together for the first time last night and he wasn't sure what to do now that they were facing each other; not to mention Eric looked like shit.

"Hey…" Eric said, his voice sounding particularly husky.

"You alright?"

Eric smirked at him, "yea…I'm fine."

A long awkward silence fell between them as Stan started to avert his eyes. He started looking around Eric's room, unsure of how to act. He really wished the awkwardness would go away between them. So far his entire visit they'd been completely unsure of how to handle each other. How the Hell did they manage to fuck in the midst of all the uncertainty?

"So…um…what do you wanna do today?"

Eric shrugged, a sudden exhaustion taking him over.

"Honestly…I'm not feeling so great. I kinda just wanna sit on the couch and watch TV if you don't mind."

Stan smiled warmly at him, "yeah. Okay, that sounds fine. Here…"

Eric watched fondly as his friend gathered up a blanket and a few pillows and walked past him out into the living room. Cartman followed him quietly as he watched him pop out the foot rests, toss the pillows onto the couch and drop the blanket atop them. He smiled towards Eric before throwing himself onto the couch and yanking the covers over him.

Cartman couldn't help but laugh a bit as he walked over and gently had a seat beside Stan, who was holding the blanket up for him. He slid under it and snuggled up close to Stan, who wrapped him up in the blanket and squeezed him.

Eric felt his cheeks flush as Stan kissed the top of his head affectionately.

"I'm sorry you don't feel good," he said, adjusting himself a bit and finding a comfortable position.

"It's fine," Eric said reassuringly as he picked up the remote and clicked the TV on.

Eric quickly found a station running reruns of some old Seinfeld's. They both got immediately sucked into it and found themselves entirely comfortable with one another. Stan was sitting up just a bit higher than Eric, both arms wrapped around him holding Eric close. Eric's head was resting just below Stan's, who was settled atop his happily. The covers were pulled up to Eric's chin as he sniffled a bit here and there, feeling like a cold was settling over him. As much as he hated being sick and weak, he didn't mind having Stan there to comfort him.

They sat this way for hours laughing at the show and repeating funny lines here and there to each other before Eric finally fell asleep in Stan's arms.

Stan looked at his friend fondly before hugging him close and rubbing his arm gently. He hated to see him sick like that, especially because the funeral wasn't that far away. He let out a small sigh as he sat there, gently stroking Eric and watching the TV. As he lounged, he couldn't help but note a small pit that was forming in the bottom of his stomach. He wasn't entirely sure what the cause was, but he felt like something was wrong. He looked at Eric once more before kissing the top of his head and, for whatever reason, he felt like he had to tell him.

"I won't let anything bad happen to you…ever…I promise…"


	8. Chapter 8

Bittersweet Bundle of Misery

Chapter 8 – Sorrow's Army

By: StalkerDex

(Author's Note: my thoughts on episode 7 of the new season. While my little heart was squeeling that Matt and Trey finally indulged us as far as Kyman goes, I'm a little sad. I think this will signal the end of the fluff between them. It sort of takes the magic away from all the creativity and hoping, you know? I dunno…it's bittersweet. Anyway, on with my Stanman story!)

Kenny stared nervously at his phone. He'd been sitting in the hotel room alone for about an hour now. The blinds were shut, small slivers of sunlight interrupting the darkness. As he sat amidst the slight glimmers of sun and visible, monotonous particles of dust that accompanied them he found himself utterly terrified. If he called him and asked him about the dreams it could go horribly wrong. However, if he didn't, someone else was going to die.

He felt a wave of sickness wash over him as he finally let out a frustrated grunt and pressed the dial key. He had to do this.

Ring.

Breathe in.

Ring.

Breathe out.

Click.

Hold it.

"_Hello_?" his old co-worker's familiar voice greeted, not sounding overly surprised to hear from Kenny.

"Hey Joe…" he finally breathed out.

"_Oh, hey Kenny. What's up_?"

Why did he sound so casual? They hadn't spoken in forever.

"Um…I just…uh…I've been having some weird dreams."

"_I know._"

Kenny swallowed hard.

"You know?"

"_Well…yeah. I've been visiting you…did you think what I told you last night wasn't real?_"

The fuck? What kind of freak was this guy? Kenny let a small, uncertain laugh before continuing.

"Uh…okay…so, that was real. Sweet…" he was being completely sarcastic at this point, "so…you said that I can make this stop…so what do I have to do?"

Joe let out a loud laugh, making Kenny very uncomfortable. This sick weirdo was taking pleasure in his suffering. He should've known he was getting himself into trouble when he'd let him take his power.

"_Isn't it obvious? You have to die, Kenny. It's the only way to restore the balance._"

Kenny felt his stomach drop and his cheeks run hot.

"Seriously…? There's nothing else I can do? That can't be…"

"_Look…that's the only way to set things right. Whether or not you want to is up to you. I honestly don't give a shit what you do…I just did what you asked me to._"

"Well you could've told me that people were going to die! Why the fuck didn't you give me a little heads up there, Asshole!" Kenny demanded, somewhat losing his cool.

"_Oh please…you're not stupid, kiddo. Somewhere, deep down, you knew there were going to be severe consequences and you did anyway. You had no regard for how it may affect anyone else._"

Kenny gritted his teeth, "that's not true! I thought that I was going to die sooner, dude…I didn't think people I love were going to start dropping like flies!"

Joe laughed again. Kenny found himself wishing he could pop him one in the mouth.

"_Well…in a way, that's still the consequence isn't it? It's up to you when you die now. Make a decision, before someone else gets killed._"

In a moment of sheer panic, Kenny blurted out something he knew he would later regret.

"Wait…uh…look, I'm in California. I'm here for my friend's funeral…I know you know that…but is there anyway we can talk about this in person? Like…can you get here by Friday maybe?"

He listened to a seemingly endless silence as Joe contemplated this.

_"Sure…why not. I'll see you Friday, kid._"

Kenny breathed out a sigh of relief. He wasn't sure if it would work or not, but he had a plan.

"Alright…later Joe."

Click.

Long, deep sigh.

Fuck, he hoped this worked.

…

Stan was in the kitchen brewing some tea for Eric. He hadn't gotten off of the couch once and he was starting to get concerned. He knew his friend was sick, but it just seemed so fucking severe. All of a sudden, Stan heard him start to cough hysterically from the couch.

Stan panicked and ran over to his side. He was unsure of what he should do as he watched his friend sit himself up, coughing hopelessly into his hands. He seemed like he couldn't stop and Stan hovered beside him nervously as he watched tears start to fall down Eric's face. His shoulders were shaking violently as he hunched over. His normally pale face was flushed from his body's violent outburst. This went on for a good thirty seconds or so before he finally was able to make himself stop.

"Fuck…are you okay?" Stan asked as he put his hand on his back supportively.

Eric didn't say anything. He simply held his hands over his mouth, looking towards Stan with a little panic in his eyes. Stan realized something was wrong.

"What is it, Eric? Hey…are you alright?" he urged.

Eric continued to stare at him, eyes wide with fright. He refused to remove his hands from his face.

"Hey…" Stan suddenly said, his voice very hushed and soothing as he reached out, touching Eric's hands. He was urging him to lower them.

Eric shut his eyes tightly, tears falling out, as Stan gently pried his hands away from his face.

"Fuck…Eric…" He said, mostly from shock. Eric's lovely mouth had blood all around it and his hands were literally dripping with it.

"Babe…why didn't you tell me about this?" he asked, a sick feeling in his stomach.

Eric let out a sigh as he leaned against the back of the couch, averting his eyes.

"I didn't want to be a burden. Kyle's funeral is only three days away. I just wanted to keep it to myself until then."

"Eric…this is serious…" Stan suddenly said, his voice rather severe.

Eric looked towards him, a little confused.

"Does it really matter?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

A pained look made it's way across Stan's face as he pulled the sleeve of his shirt over his hand and affectionately wiped the blood off of Eric's mouth. Eric allowed him to do so and continued to stare at him, perplexed.

"Yes, it does matter," Stan said firmly as he sat beside Eric, affectionately rubbing his cheek with his thumb.

Eric furrowed his brows a bit, speaking a little heatedly, "why?"

Stan's thumb stopped and he froze for a second before slowly lowering his hand to his own lap.

"Uh…well…" he stammered a bit, averting his gaze. Eric looked at him, frustrated, before nudging him some more.

"Why…why does it matter, Stan?"

Stan looked him over, heavily stressed out before letting out a small sigh.

"Just…just shut up, Eric…" he finally said as he leaned in and kissed him.

Eric immediately put his hands on the back of Stan's head, grabbing his hair. They kissed passionately and heatedly for a few minutes before Eric gently nudged Stan, wanting him to lay down. He was still so fucking weak.

"This is weird…" Stan said as he laid next to Eric, noting the blood still on Eric's hands.

"Sorry…I think I got it in your hair…" he apologized.

Stan smirked at him before putting his arms around his waste and pulling him close.

"I don't care."

Eric smiled softly at him before fluttering his eyes a bit and looking his friend in the eyes, sincerity on his face.

"But seriously….Stan…why does it matter?"

Stan sighed, a pained look on his face as he put his hand to Eric's cheek once more rubbing gently. Eric looked him over as he pulled him in and planted a much gentler kiss on his lips. He pulled away slightly, their noses touching.

"Because…you matter."

Eric furrowed his brows again, not comprehending what his friend was saying.

"How can you say that? What have I ever done that matters?"

"Are you serious?" Stan asked, a little surprised. Eric really thought that lowly of himself?

Eric nodded, pulling the blankets up to his chin.

"Oh, Eric…Jesus…you have no idea what you mean to me…to everyone. Seriously…just look at how much you helped Kyle's family. If you hadn't have been there things would have been entirely different. Fuck…you're a stronger, braver, far better person than I could even hope to be…"

Eric blinked stupidly at him.

"You don't even know me that well Stan…" he objected, referring to the amount of time they'd been apart. Not to mention, when they had been around each other they were constantly at odds over their love for Kyle. They just hadn't spent very much time alone, not to mention actually opening up to one another.

Stan chuckled a bit at him before pulling the blankets to his chin as well.

"I know you well enough."

Eric let out a small sigh before smiling at Stan softly.

"Yeah…alright…" he surrendered before allowing Stan to kiss him tenderly.

They made out for quite some time, arms and legs wrapped around each other. It sucked Eric was so sick because he wanted to have sex with Stan so bad. Stan could tell.

He smiled at him before laughing softly at him.

"Fuck off…" Eric insisted, kissing him some more. Fuck he was so frustrated.

"You're too sick for this…" Stan insisted.

"Please…" he begged, doing his best to steal kisses between their talking.

Stan was laughing here and there between their kisses, playfully placing his hands on Eric's ass.

"No sex…but I will blow you if you promise me something…" Stan began, wanting to strike a deal.

"What…?" Eric asked, irritated that Stan had the upper hand on him.

"Promise me you'll let me take you to the doctor tomorrow…"

Eric let out a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes.

"You're breakin' my balls, Stan…" he replied, trying to see if he could get out of it.

Stan shrugged, playfully pushing his tongue to the side of his mouth. Fuck…Eric wanted it so bad. His mouth was so sexy.

"Goddamnit fine…you can take me to the doctor."

Stan smiled at him before pulling him in for a kiss, immediately pushing Eric's boxers down a bit. He kept his end of the deal.


	9. Chapter 9

Bittersweet Bundle of Misery

Chapter 9 – Don't Let Your Man Know

By: StalkerDex

(Author's Note: I agree with you…having the Kyman in that episode actually took away a lot of the creativity for me. I will have to work a little harder at building up angst in my Kyman stories now. Oh well…Anyway, as far as this story goes I'm approaching the end! Only one or two more chapters to go. I'm really excited I think you guys will be happy with it!)

"Kenny?" Eric asked, his friend having answered the phone. Stan was fast asleep on the couch and he'd somehow managed to get up and make his way to his room without waking him. It took every ounce of energy he had to do so.

"_What's up?_" Kenny asked, a little surprised that Eric was calling him. It was the middle of the night.

"I need your help with something."

Kenny rubbed his eyes attempting to rid himself of the sleepiness he felt. Alley was asleep beside him, so he gently slid out of bed and made his way into the bathroom so he could have some privacy as he talked to his friend.

"_What's up, dude? What do you need?_"

Eric was sprawled out on his bed, breathing heavily from the exertion it had taken him to get there. Fuck…how was it possible for him to feel this bad?

"I need you to take me to the hospital. I'm too fucked up to drive and I don't want Stan to be there with me…"

Kenny felt his stomach drop.

"_Why do you need to go to the hospital? What's wrong? And why don't you want Stan to take you?_"

Eric sighed. He really didn't want to have to explain himself.

"I'm not doing so good. I've been coughing up blood and I don't have much energy. It took a lot for me to get away from Stan right now, okay? And I don't want him to come because I don't want him to worry about me."

Eric was coughing up blood? Kenny felt a little out of breath. Guess he knew who was going to die next.

"_Uh…yeah…sure, Dude. I'll be there. Do you have enough energy to get yourself outside?_"

Eric felt like he was going to cry as he realized he had to get himself out of the house without waking Stan. Fuck. This was going to be really difficult to pull off.

"Yeah…yeah I can do it. Just get here fast, okay?"

Kenny nodded his head, "_Yeah…okay. I'll be there in like five minutes, Dude._"

Eric nodded to himself before hanging up. He laid there, struggling to catch his breath. He knew it was going to be no easy feat getting himself outside. Not to mention the fact that he was in his boxers and a loose fitting black T shirt. He didn't really want to go out in public like that, but he was also painfully aware he didn't have the energy to dress himself.

He let out a heavy sigh as he stood himself up, an overwhelming dizzy feeling taking him over.

"Oh fuck…" he whispered harshly to himself as he stumbled, lost his footing and fell to the ground, catching himself on the bed. He was panting as he laid there, barely able to hold up his body on the side of the bed. What the fuck? Something was seriously wrong with him. He wasn't entirely certain they would even let him leave the hospital. Still, he had promised Stan he would get there, one way or another.

He knew Stan wanted to take him, but he also wanted to avoid causing any unnecessary stress if he could. So, for Stan, he managed to stand himself up once more, this time taking it a little slower so he wouldn't lose his footing.

As he stood there, his legs wobbling beneath him, he felt pretty accomplished. Standing on his own was no easy feat.

"Okay, Eric…you can do this…" he whispered to himself, trying to get himself all pumped up.

He let out a small grunt as he slowly started to put one foot in front of the other. It took him a few minutes to make it to his bedroom door. Once he reached it he shakily reached out his hand and opened it quietly. The rest of the house was dark and he could hear Stan breathing softly from the couch. He was still fast asleep. Thank Christ he was a heavy sleeper.

Eric gently breathed out as he continued his slow and difficult trudge to the front door. His heart was racing as he made his way to the door, trying his best to be quiet. It made his adrenaline pump as he struggled to get past Stan.

Somehow, luckily, he'd managed to make it. He shakily opened the door, stepped out and slowly closed it. He'd done it!

He was a little disappointed to see that Kenny was already there. Jesus…it had taken him that long to get outside.

Kenny was standing beside his car and, at the sight of him, Eric felt his adrenaline start to fade. He'd exhausted himself.

"Shit…!" Kenny said as he watched Eric collapse to the ground, barely managing to break his fall with his hands.

"Holy fuck, Eric…" Kenny whispered as he reached his side. He knelt down and threw Eric's limp and shaky arm around his neck and grabbed him, hoisting him up. Fuck; he'd lost a lot of weight but he was still pretty heavy.

"Hey," Eric said, a little breathless.

"Eric…fuck…how long have you been like this?"

Cartman felt totally exhausted as he allowed Kenny to assist him to his vehicle. He was a little embarrassed as Kenny picked him up and placed him inside. How fucking stupid. He couldn't even get himself inside of the fucking car.

Once Kenny had plopped in and started driving off he continued to try and get Eric to tell him more. He knew, deep down, that this was his fault.

"How long has this been happening?" he insisted.

"A couple of days…" Eric replied, barely able to keep his eyes open.

"Shit, dude…" Kenny said, more to himself than Eric.

Eric rolled his eyes into the back of his head as he struggled to keep them open. Kenny reached out and squeezed his leg.

"Hang in there…okay? We're almost there…"

Kenny was driving as fast as he could.

"Kenny…" Eric choked out, a very sincere tone to his voice. It got Kenny's attention.

"What, Cartman?"

"If anything happens to me today…just tell Stan that I love him okay?"

Kenny turned his head and looked at his friend for a second before returning his gaze to the road. He was a little speechless. He felt his stomach lurch.

"Yeah, okay…I will."

He really hoped he didn't have to. He had to fix this and soon. Friday couldn't come fast enough.

The rest of the drive was silent. Kenny parked his car, got out and scooped his old friend out, carrying him into the Emergency Room. As he walked in a nurse saw them and ran up to him.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked, signaling for a doctor to join her.

"I don't know…" Kenny said hopelessly, "he's been coughing up blood. He said for a while now…and now he can't even walk he's really weak…"

"Okay…" the nurse said as she watched a doctor run over to her with a gurney.

"Set him down," she commanded.

Kenny urgently set his friend atop it and stood back as a few nurses and a doctor surround him. They rushed him back into the patient care area, leaving Kenny to sit anxiously in the waiting room. It would be hours before he would receive any news.

…

"Eric…hello…" a man's voice urged him to wake.

His head felt cloudy as he opened his eyes and struggled to focus. Where the fuck was he?

"Unh…who are you?" he asked, still struggling to find his bearings.

"You're at the hospital, kiddo."

Eric squinted his eyes, realizing that the man before must've been a doctor. That's right…he'd asked Kenny to drive him to the hospital.

"Oh…right…" he replied, blinking and looking around the room.

"So, we've examined you and determined that you've had a pulmonary embolism. This means that you have a blood clot in your lungs. This combined with a very severe fever is what has been causing your sickness…" the doctor explained.

"W…what? Is that bad?" Eric asked, worry taking hold of him.

The doctor sighed, looking him over.

"Well…it's not good Eric. It's very treatable, but we're going to need to keep you here. I've already administered a special combination of drugs that will thin out your blood and help to clear it up. I suggest you stop smoking though."

Eric closed his eyes, a little frustrated. Obviously he needed to stop smoking. Christ.

"Is that why this happened?" he asked, struggling to comprehend the situation.

"More than likely, yes," the doctor scolded.

Eric nodded, "do you think I can be out of here by Friday?"

The doctor raised his eyebrows at him doubtfully.

"Probably not."

Eric swallowed hard, struggling to choke back tears. Great. He was going to miss Kyle's funeral.

"Can I call someone? Is Kenny still here?"

The doctor jotted a few things down on Eric's chart before setting it down on the end of the bed.

"The guy that brought you here? Yes…do you want me to let him in?"

Eric nodded.

"Okay then…I'll send him in."

Eric let out a sigh of relief as he let his head rest comfortably in the pillow. It wasn't too long before Kenny was by his side.

"What happened, dude?" he asked, relieved to see Eric more lucid than before.

"The doctor says I have a fever and a blood clot in my lungs. From fucking smoking."

Kenny looked him over sympathetically before speaking once more.

"But you're okay for now, right?"

Eric sort of shrugged at him, "I guess so. Look, can you call Stan for me? I'm not going to be out of here any time soon and I wanna see him."

Kenny smirked at him, "He already called me. He's in the waiting room waiting on my text. He woke up and you weren't home…you scared the shit out of him dude."

Eric couldn't help but smile a bit. Of course.

"Damn…" he sighed, still smirking, "well tell him to come in then."

Kenny nodded, quickly whipping out his phone and texting hastily. It was only a minute or so before Stan was sheepishly entering the room.

"Hey Hippie," Eric greeted, smiling warmly at him.

"The fuck?" Stan said, though not seeming overly angry, "why didn't you let me bring you here, asshole?"

"I didn't want to worry you…"

"Jesus…" Stan sighed as he had a seat beside Eric, grabbing his hand, "so what happened?"

"He has a blood clot in his lungs," Kenny chimed in, figuring Eric probably didn't want to explain himself again.

"What? Dude…what does that mean?" Stan asked, worry instantly crossing his face.

Eric smiled meekly at him, "it's okay. The doc put me on some drugs already. I'm feeling better."

"What about the funeral…are you going to be able to go?"

Eric's smile vanished.

"No…he said probably not."

Stan looked him over sympathetically before looking at Kenny, his eyes seemingly asking him to leave. Kenny nodded at him before he looked at Eric.

"Alright…well…I'm tired as fuck so I'm gonna go get some rest. I'll come by and see ya tomorrow, Cartman."

Eric nodded at him, "thanks, dude."

Kenny nodded in return before disappearing out the doorway. A long moment of silence passed between Stan and Eric. Stan spoke first.

"You scared the shit out of me…"

Eric sighed.

"I'm know…I'm sorry. I didn't realize this was going to happen."

Stan looked him over, understanding where he was coming from.

"Look…Eric…I…I, uh…fuck…" he stammered, averting his eyes.

"Go ahead…it's okay. Say it," Eric said confidently.

Stan smiled a bit, still looking at the ground. He stayed this way for a moment before sighing, looking up at the ceiling, and finally looking Eric in the eyes. He looked amazing.

"Yeah, okay. I…I love you. Don't scare me like that again, okay?"

Eric smiled brightly at him before speaking.

"I love you, too. And I won't…I promise."

Stan held onto Eric's hand tightly. He stayed that way until he fell asleep in the chair beside his boyfriend, staying the entire night.

…

Kenny felt his heart pounding in his chest. Alley was still asleep and he was now in the bathroom, gun weighing heavy in his hand. He had to do this; it was the only way to save his friend. He grabbed a bullet off of the counter, loading the gun up. He let out a long sigh as he stared at himself in the mirror. The time had come. He had to take responsibility for what he'd done.

It was the only way.


	10. Chapter 10

Bittersweet Bundle of Misery

Chapter 10 – A Day is Far too Long

By: StalkerDex

(Author's Note: This is the final chapter. I will be switching between scenes very frequently for the first part of this, so pay attention to the little dots indicating a scene change! Hopefully it doesn't get too confusing. I'm seeing this like a movie in my head as I'm writing it lol. Hope you guys enjoyed the story and I am planning on doing a sequel to it once I take a small break. Writing these stories is very stressfull!)

Kenny lurked ominously in the darkened hotel room. It was six A.M. and he had sent Alley away. She hadn't questioned him. He figured, with the crazed state he was in she wouldn't.

He was sitting in his chair before the blinds, small shreds of light and dust surrounding him once more. It was Friday. The day had finally come; and even though he knew he wasn't going to be attending Kyle's funeral, he'd still dressed up as though he were. It only seemed appropriate because today; well, today would be the day that Kenny McCormick died.

…

Stan was sitting beside Eric, dressed in his best for Kyle's funeral. He had decided to stop and see his boyfriend before hand, even though he was certain seeing him dressed for the funeral would be difficult for him.

"I'm going to be there representing you, Eric…I promise," Stan assured.

Both of his hands were cupping one of Eric's, his thumbs gently stroking it. He adored him so much; he simply couldn't touch him, or kiss him or tell him enough. He craved Eric endlessly.

"I know…look…I wrote this…can you please read it at the funeral for me?" Eric replied, pulling a small, folded up piece of paper from beside him and handing it to Stan. His boyfriend took it gently before placing it into his pocket, knowing that he shouldn't read it until it was time.

Before Stan could respond, however, Eric's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he started to breathe heavily. What the fuck?

"Nurse! Nurse!" Stan shouted as he shot out of his chair.

What was happening? He was totally fine like ten seconds ago!

…

A knock at the door. Kenny didn't bother to move. He'd left it unlocked.

"Come in," he insisted, his hand grasping his gun tightly. He wasn't shaking. He wasn't biting his lip or breathing heavily. No, in fact, he was the calmest he'd ever been in his entire life.

He watched intently as the door slowly creaked open, Joe standing just on the other side. The threatening man made his way in slowly, as though he knew what Kenny was up to. He had a gun in hand as well.

Kenny smirked at him arrogantly as he rested his elbow on the table beside him, his gun aimed directly at his opponent.

"I see you came prepared," he mused, referring to his enemy's weapon.

Joe nodded, standing about twenty feet or so away from the young man. Perhaps taking this one's power had been a mistake.

"You have to accept it Kenny…there's no other way out of this…you have to die."

"I know."

Joe raised his eyebrows at him doubtfully.

…

"Eric…Eric!" Stan shouted helplessly.

He was surrounded by nurses. The beeping of the heart monitor was flat lining. He was dying; he was fucking dying. On the day of Kyle's funeral he was going to lose him.

"ERIC!" He wailed, falling down to his knees and sobbing uncontrollably.

"Clear!" The doctor shouted as they started to shock his chest. They were doing their best to keep him.

"Eric fuck…you can't fucking die…please…hold on Eric just a little bit longer…" Stan sobbed as he watched helplessly. There was absolutely nothing he could do.

…

"If you know, Kenny…why do you keep aiming that gun at me?" Joe asked, stepping a little closer.

"Because…" Kenny said as he finally stood up, also inching his way closer, "…you're going to die to…"

As he said this he whipped his gun into the air. A single shot was fired, ringing monstrously throughout the room.

…

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Stan pulled his head from his hands. The heart monitor was beeping? What the fuck was…

As he thought, he suddenly felt very light headed, a bright light seemingly blinding him. He lost all consciousness.

…

"Fuck you…" Kenny spat out as the darkness started to take hold. He had been shot; blood pooling around his body. However, as death started to take hold of him, he looked beside him to see Joe, also consumed with a pool of darkened blood. It had actually worked…they'd fired at the same time, killing each other. A strong wave of relief washed over him as he hoped and prayed things worked out like he thought they would.

"Fuck everything…" Kenny whispered as he slowly closed his lids, accepting his fate.

…

Kenny gasped as he shot up, covered with sweat. He was breathing heavily as he looked around him, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. He remembered it all. He had shot Joe. Joe had shot him. He had died…did it really work? Did killing Joe really give him his powers back?

He looked beside him to see Alley, her beautiful eyes widened. It was morning, seeing as the sun was shining brightly into their room. Fuck…he was in their room. In their apartment. He wasn't in California…why the fuck wasn't he in California?

"Baby…are you okay?" Alley asked as she comfortingly put her hand to his back and rubbed.

He blinked stupidly at her, "what…uh…what day is it?"

She looked totally confused as she shrugged, "the date? Or the day? It's Friday…I'm not sure what date it is…" she admitted.

"Oh…uh…okay," Kenny said as he reached over to his nightstand, grabbing his phone. He was curious as to what the date was. However, as he looked at the screen he felt his heart stop.

Missed call: Kyle Broflovski.

What the fuck?

"Uh…I have a missed call from Kyle…" Kenny said softly, trying to see how his girlfriend would react.

She yawned and rubbed her eyes, realizing she wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep.

"Call him back then," she said casually as she got out of bed and threw her pink robe on. She was definitely going to need some coffee.

Kenny felt his stomach lurch as he watched her leave their bedroom. This wasn't what he'd thought was going to happen. Did life, like…reset itself? He figured he should call Kyle and see what he had to say.

…

Eric was in the kitchen, munching on Doritos as Kyle sat across from him drinking some coffee. It was their morning ritual to chat a bit and hang out before they each went to school. However, this morning Eric couldn't help but notice he didn't feel like he had before.

For one thing, he felt like he was missing an enormous chunk of time, which was strange. He hadn't been drinking or anything. Perhaps it was just one of those phenomena like déjà vu or something.

That, however, was the least of his worries. At the moment, as he looked Kyle over, he realized that he didn't real feel anything for him. Yesterday, well…what he could remember as yesterday anyway…he had been so fucking head over heels in love with him. Yet, today, for whatever reason he just felt sort of numb towards him.

Sure, he still loved him in the sense that he was his best friend and closest confidant. But, as he ate his chips, he couldn't help but feel that there was something very significant missing in his life.

"Hello?" Kyle asked. Cartman hadn't even noticed his phone ringing.

He decided he would give Kyle some privacy as he spoke on the phone, waving goodbye to him and walking out the door. He figured he could stop at the grocery store and get a coke or something to get him through the day. His head was killing him.

…

Stan's head was throbbing as he trudged out of his old bedroom. He wasn't sure why, but he was at his parent's house. He was dressed in his work uniform and suffering from an enormous hang over.

"Good morning, Stan," Sharon said less than cheerfully as her son walked like a zombie into her kitchen.

He was squinting one of his eyes, obviously taking offense to the sunlight in the kitchen. She couldn't help but be irritated with him. After all, she'd picked him up from the bar for, like, the millionth time last night.

"Here," she said as she dropped a plate full of eggs and toast before her son.

"Thanks," he muttered as he struggled to find his bearings.

What the fuck? He seriously felt like he'd just missed a month of his life or something. He didn't even really remember what had happened the night before.

Sharon could see the confusion on his face and it irritated her even more.

"Stan…seriously…you're not going to pull the 'I don't remember' card with me again, are you?" she demanded angrily.

Stan shrugged as he took a small bite of his eggs, completely repulsed. He didn't want to eat.

"I really don't," he said, though not overly hostile.

Normally when he and his mom would have these confrontations he would be so fucking angry. Today, however, he felt completely different. For the first time in years he felt…hope.

Sharon looked her son over for a second before sighing and sitting down beside him, realizing that he wasn't being aggressive with her. It was a little refreshing.

"You went out with Butters last night…you got wasted. Your father and I came to get you…that's all I know. I'm not sure what you and Butters were up to."

Stan nodded. He kind of remembered going out with Butters, but he couldn't for the life of him remember what they'd discussed.

"I'm sorry, Mom," Stan suddenly spat out, looking up at her.

Sharon felt her heart literally skip a beat as she looked at her beautiful son. Something was very different about him.

"It…It's okay, Stan. I'm just worried about you, you know?"

He nodded. Of course she was worried about him. He was fucking up. He had been fucking up for so long. He couldn't quite put his finger on it but, as he sat there in the awkward silence with his mother, he knew that something was significantly different about his life. What the fuck had happened last night? He wished so badly that he could remember.

"Mom…I…I have to tell you something," he spoke slowly.

Sharon held her breath, preparing herself for the worst as her son spoke. He continued.

"I…I've been having a really hard time. I've been drinking because…well…there's just some stuff I haven't been able to deal with and I'm starting to realize I can't do this alone."

"Well…what is it Stan? I'm your mother…I love you more than anything. I would do anything in the world to help you," she insisted as she leaned forward and grabbed his hand.

He smiled softly at her, placing his free hand atop hers.

"Okay. Um…this isn't really easy for me to say. I…I fell in love with someone and they rejected me. I know that happens to everyone but, the thing is…I haven't been able to talk about it or really deal with it. The reason is that…I'm gay, mom. I'm really sorry…I hope I'm not a huge disappointment, but I am gay."

Sharon blinked at him before smiling warmly towards him, bringing him in for a hug.

"Oh Stan…I'm sorry sweetie. It's not a big deal. I mean, it is…but it's not to me is what I'm saying."

She leaned back and looked him in the eyes, "do you want to tell me about what happened then?"

Stan returned the warm smile, "yeah…actually, I would really like that, Mom."

…

Cartman was walking listlessly through the store as he browsed the candies. He had already retrieved his soda, though figured perhaps he should get something tasty to go with it. It always helped with the stress. Fuck. What was this horrible, nagging feeling he had? What was missing?

"Oh, shit…I'm sorry…" he spat out as he accidently collided with a very beautiful, young red head.

"It's okay…I'm sorry," she stammered, blushing profusely.

Eric smiled at her.

"Um…okay, so this is going to sound like a pick up line, but it's not. Do I know you?" He asked, completely genuine.

She laughed a bit, "you know…that does sound like a really lame pick up line but…uh…you kinda look familiar to me. What's your name?"

"My name is Eric…you?" he asked.

"Hmmm…well, Eric…I can't say that I recall actually meeting you before. My name is Alexis."

Eric nodded towards her. He didn't recognize that name either.

"Well…I guess not. You really do look familiar though," he admitted as he scratched the back of his head.

She looked him over for a second before smirking cockily towards him. This girl seemed pretty ballsy and he was intrigued by it.

"Why don't you give me your number, Eric…perhaps we can have a drink and see if we can get to the bottom of this?"

He smirked back at her, trying to be more arrogant than she.

"Why don't you give me your number and we can have a drink at my place and see what happens?"

She laughed confidently towards him before leaning over, reaching into his pocket and locating his phone. He swallowed hard as she pulled it out and quickly entered her number. Fuck…this girl was insane!

"So, uh…yeah…I'll call you," Eric stammered, a little flustered that she'd done that in such a public place.

"Yeah…I know," she replied before smiling at him and walking away, swaying her hips seductively as she did so.

Still, as he watched her walking away he couldn't ignore that pit in his stomach. What the fuck was he missing?

…

"So…Kyle…how are things?" Kenny asked, still totally confused as to how he was speaking to Kyle.

"_Great, dude! I've been doing really well in school and I got a cool job at a local animal shelter. It's really just been awesome_."

Kenny nodded before easing his way into figuring the situation out.

"So…uh…have you heard from Stan at all?"

"_Stan? No. Why?_"

Holy shit. It was seriously as though the entire situation had reset itself.

"No reason. What about your health? Have you been sick at all?"

"_Pfffttt…no, dude. What's up with you? You're being weird…_" Kyle insisted.

Kenny felt his stomach lurch. It had reset. It was as though all of the events that had taken place because of his deal had completely erased themselves. He toyed with whether this was a good thing or not for several moments.

"I'm sorry…I'm just a little off man. I'm glad to hear from you…so…everything is fine then?"

On the one hand…Kyle was alive. On the other…Stan and Eric. What did this mean for them?

Kyle smiled genuinely, his joy creeping into his voice, "_Kenny…I can honestly say that nothing has ever been better._"

Kenny nodded before the two of them said their goodbyes and he hung up the phone, a strange feeling washing over him. He was so relieved to hear Kyle's voice, he really was…but…he knew now that things, no matter what, would never change for the four of them.

Kyle would always get sick.

Stan would never find hope.

Eric would never fall in love.

And Kenny…Kenny would never stop dying.


End file.
